#and then I feel guilty because it’s not my problem why am I so upset? I’m just making everything about myself I have no reason to be crying

[pellowinksx]

hi love it’s 🍰 anon 💕 i’ve been doing good with persisting in not having my eating problems and having my dream body and face and overall self and i haven’t felt much guilt for eating!! i can even think better and see clearer now, and im so much more creative and outgoing!! i feel like myself again but im still struggling with my appearance

today i was gonna wear this ugly dress that i used to wear cus i was too insecure to wear the clothes i actually liked and i was being mean to myself again and saying ill never get to be beautiful and all that junk and then i got so upset at myself and i said “no im not doing this im beautiful im skinny i look how i want to” and i put on my outfit i wanted to wear a cute skirt and a top and i just played my subliminals and kept just affirming im beautiful im skinny but im still getting triggered by the 3d and im trying so hard to just be like whatever, the 3d is literally me why fight it? and ive reread ur post of manifesting ur hair over and over for motivation but im just feeling so scared?? i think i get scared of actually having my desires but i wanna know am i on the right track? am i rly gonna get my desired appearance?? it’s weird ive manifested so many things like money, grades, food, my phone, my cat, and small things like parking spaces and people leaving stuff like that so i know this is all real idk why im being so like annoying w it 😭 i dunno i was trying to figure this out and i got this dreadful feeling in my stomach and i didn’t know where else to go so i hope it’s okay that im going to u 😭💕

oh my godddd this made me smile :) 🩷🩷✨

I'm so glad you're persisting and working on the way you talk to yourself, and YAYYYY you're not feeling guilty for eating? That's literally such a huge success !!🍰

And its completely normal to be scared of achieving something you've wanted for so long, but of course its meant for you! try to take a deep breath whenever you feel scared/anxious and etc. And also remind yourself that feelings don't manifest!

and lastly, I know exactly how you feel. I felt this exact way with my hair, I was persisting, but I kept getting triggered by the 3d. How did I overcome this? I reminded myself that the 3D is old. It’s not current, it’s not real-time, it’s like... a memory playing out. My imagination, that’s the real power. So if something in the 3D feels off, I just go “oh that’s just the past catching up, whatever 😌” and I go back to affirming or imagining what I do want instead. Whenever I felt triggered, I didn’t suppress it, I just softened the reaction. Like, “I already believe it so the 3d will change.” over time, the trigger loses its power because you’re not feeding it anymore. You're feeding the state. You're feeding the version of you who has it all already.

summary 🔆🩷

remind yourself that the 3d is old and will change

triggers are NORMAL and they will die overtime

just keep feeding the desired version of yourself

[homocidalpotat]

Please do not send me asks for donations

Here's why (for if you find that statement hard to understand):

I have NO money to give you.

I don't have a big enough audience for my asks to get noticed.

I am a minor, and most of my followers/mutuals are too.

It makes me feel extremely guilty.

Seeing pictures of injuries or hospitals etc are triggering and/or upsetting for me. These pictures often have blood, gore, extreme medical situations, hospital environments, etc. I'm not saying I don't feel sympathy for them, I'm saying I do not want to see that.

They are always worded in a way that makes me feel like I am a murderer if I don't donate.

I said I don't want them, and my boundaries should be respected. They make me feel uncomfortable, and sometimes triggered or upset.

I can't tell what is a bot/scam and what isn't.

I get a lot of spam from this.

Please, just respect the fact that I have said this.

If you want this in your pinned post, please don't credit me. You can copy the words or take a screenshot with my username cropped out. You can reblog this but please don't go on about how awful your experiences have been. I get it, but also if you spiral two much you might end up accidentally saying something bad. This post has led to a lot of hate anons and harassment, so I would rather not have too much attention. Thanks...

I am pro Palestine and want to do everything I can to help but I'm not financially or mentally well enough to do much. I'm not in support of these people dying. Also, this post isn't just about Palestine. It's about ALL asks for donations. I'm not doing favouritism or racism. I just can't deal with it. Don't harass me for expressing boundaries. This post applies to people of all nationalities and backgrounds. Every situation- war, poverty, injury, anything. I'm not discriminating. I'm not being a zionist or a racist or an ableist. It's a boundary.

Yes, this post might seem controversial. But I did literally make this for my own personal experience and didn't expect it to get more than 12 notes or so. Don't add opposing views because quite frankly, it's none of your business. It's not my problem and I didn't mean for this post to get so many notes. Don't use the number of notes as an excuse to fight me. I just want a peaceful Tumblr experience. Also, if you are reblogging this, don't trauma dump. I keep notifications on for this post so that I can block people harassing me before shit escalates, so I can see every reblog. You can screenshot and repost if you want to talk about your problems, but honestly its no better seeing people saying "I'm bankrupt and I just got kicked out by my family. I also have a history of abuse and those images are so triggering that I want to die". That doesn't help me. Make your own post to say that. Please.

I am taking this post off private after slightly modifying it. Any conflicting arguments based on this post will result in my blocking and reporting of you. If you do not understand my point of view, make sure you fully read the post before saying this. I made this post for my blog. If you have any questions or don't understand this post, send me an ask that is composed, calm and polite, and I can talk it through with you.

Please note that by sharing this post, you are more likely to be targeted by bots and scams. You are also more likely to be harassed. Please be safe.

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 10

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

I'll keep the warnings, even though there is no outright mention in this part: Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Accidental Baby Procurement

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

Cassian was so fucking furious that he could nearly taste it.

The anger was like fire in his blood, his muscles tensing and his hands clenched so hard that his very bones creaked and groaned in protest.

He should have seen it earlier. He should have...he should have fucking stopped to think for once.

But he hadn't.

And now they had this fucking mess at their hands.

They were such goddamn idiots. All of them.

The guilt in him was like a physical thing, churning in his stomach, the feeling nearly making him sick.

“Where did he put her?" Nesta demanded and Cassian closed his eyes, forcing himself not to unleash his anger at his mate.

Even if he wanted to. Even when he really wanted to. 

“Even if I knew, you would be the last person I would tell," he bit out.He knew the words were cruel, but Cassian couldn't bring himself to care right now.

Not when he was too caught up in his own anger and horror. 

He met Nesta’s gaze, her grey eyes narrowed in a familiar, hard look he had seen countless times before.

Just that this time…he wasn’t going to back down. 

He was not. 

"You have no right to Zahra right now," Cassian said, his voice flat. "Not after we just all heard what exactly you think about bastards." The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

He heard both Feyre and Elain inhale at the comment, but he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about it.

"I don't care that you..." Nesta blurted out, suddenly seemingly having realised that her own mate was a bastard just as her sister.

Cassian couldn't help the bitter snort he left out. “You don’t care that I am just as much a bastard as Azriel is? As Zahra is?” he asked Nesta drily. “All bastards are siblings in a way. And I can promise you one thing, Nesta: your sister hasn't chosen the circumstances of her birth. And to hate her because of something like that...something she had absolutely no control about…" he broke off, shaking his head. "How dare you, Nes?"

"She's a constant fucking reminder of how useless our father was!" Nesta yowled.

So that was it. 

That was the crux of the problem. 

"That seems to be a you problem," Cassian sniped back. "It has nothing to do with Zahra. She hasn't done anything to you. If anything, she has clearly sacrificed herself to keep you alive.”

Nesta flinched at the word, her hands curling into fists, but Cassian couldn't bring himself to feel guilty when it was the damn truth.

"Even if I knew where she was, I wouldn't tell you," Cassian repeated. "And you know why? Because getting between a mate and his female is the most idiotic thing you can do, Nesta. Azriel's instincts are primed right now, not helped by the fact that every instinct is screaming at him about the fact that his mate was hurt. You upset Zahra, and it could be the last straw for him. My brother is lethal. You wouldn't even know he is coming."

And even when he was so fucking angry with Nesta right now, he still loved her. She was still his mate. 

Nesta looked like she wanted to snap back, to spew her fury and hurt and anger, but Cassian couldn't bring himself to let her.

Not when he himself was so furious at her.

He didn't know how Azriel kept himself in check after what they just heard...he really didn't. He didn’t know how his brother hadn’t just…gone on a murder spree. 

"I would suggest you reflect on what exactly your problem is with your sister, because otherwise none of us are ever going to let you get close enough to her to see her again," Cassian said frostily. 

"So you are in her side?" Nesta bit out.

"There are not fucking sides!" Cassian roared. "Your sister let herself be raped for years to keep you alive! The least fucking thing you owe her is some modicum of respect!"

Both Feyre and Elain whimpered softly at the words, their faces ashen as they recoiled in shock, not expecting his words.

But it was the damn truth.

At least there was no Amren there that could make some of her smart quips. Cassian was quite sure he would have tried to kill her too tonight. She was off somewhere with Varian…not there to see the meltdown. .

Which left Mor clutching her glass of wine and Emerie watching it all with crossed arms... and Lucien who looked like he would prefer to be anywhere else.

"Cassian is right," Rhys’ words cut through the quiet. Rhys' words drew Nesta's attention and she tensed, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed as she met his gaze.

But Rhys met her gaze, unflinching and utterly impassive, letting her rage fall flat against him.

Cassian could nearly feel the resentment radiate off of her and he had to grit his teeth hard to keep his own temper from spilling out.

He could nearly taste the fury in the air, the tension high enough that it was nearly suffocating.

"Azriel is Zahra's mate. Which means that what he says goes," Rhys said, his voice carefully even. "I would hope the same respect would be afforded to each of us in a similar situation.” 

The way he said it felt like a warning, and Cassian felt the slight easing of tension in the room at Rhys' words.

"He can't just keep us away from our sister!" Feyre snapped.

"I want to apologise," Elain said weakly.

"If he keeps you away from your sister then I imagine your sister doesn't want to see you," Rhys said sharply. "And for cauldron's sake, Elain, in this particular instance it really doesn't matter what you want!"

Both Feyre and Elain flinched slightly at the sharp words, the two of them shrinking back slightly like chastened children.

Cassian just stared at his brother, Rhys liked Elain. Under normal circumstances he would never talk to her like that.

It was a sign of just how furious all of them were.

How furious they all were at the whole situation.

"The least you can do under these circumstances is respect Zahra's ... choice. It seems to me like she hadn't had that often enough," Rhys continued, his voice like ice. "That goes for you too, Morrigan," he added, his voice sharp.

"I haven't even done anything!" Mor complained.

Rhys just growled under his breath. "I know you. If Feyre asks you, I imagine you would be right at Az's doorsteps and would count on the fact that his fondness for you would keep you safe. Which it won't because a mating bond trumps everything, and you know that," Rhys said sharply.

Mor flinched but her eyes narrowed in obvious fury, her knuckles turning the color of white bone as she clenched her fist, clearly upset at the words.

"I don't even know where he brought her," she hit back.

Cassian snorted. "We all know where he brought her," Cassian drawled. Just one place that Azriel could control enough that he would be sure it would keep Zahra safe. Just one place where he would trust the person there implicitly. "There is just one place that has wards tight enough to even have the slightest chance to keep out Rhys, and you know," he said drily. Rosehall.

Where Azriel's mother lived. "Though I wouldn't suggest you show up there unannounced, because Esmeray hates you."

"She doesn't hate me," Mor gave back frostily, crossing her arms.

"She isn't particularly fond of you, then," Cassian said with a sigh.

Mor let out a huff of breath and Cassian couldn't help the dry snort he left out. He knew damn well that Mor had tried to befriend Esmeray... and he also knew that her attempts had gone nowhere.

Mostly because if someone broke Esmeray's baby boy's heart...she fiercely disliked them. He could probably count himself lucky that Azriel never seemed to have mentioned Cassian's part in that whole saga to his mother.

Probably because Azriel knew that Cassian would be the one on the receiving end of Esmeray's wrath.

"Who is Esmeray?" Feyre asked.

"Azriel's mother," Rhys answered evenly.

Feyre blinked, her expression blank as she let out a soft "Oh."

"She's terrifying," Cassian added drily. "Chances are if you would show up there unannounced she would chase you off with her fabric scissors, before Azriel even needed to say a single word to you."

Mor huffed but this time there was no bite to it, and Emerie let out a muffled snort of amusement.

"She survived his father for 30 years, she has learnt one thing or another about cruelty," Rhys said, his voice dry."You'll leave Zahra and Azriel alone. Have I made myself clear?"

Cassian grimly watched the way both Feyre and Elain lowered their heads, nodding in defeat but the tension in their shoulders told him everything.

***

Zahra woke up to Azriel's cursing as he rolled out of bed.

She blinked, trying to force her brain to focus despite the lingering drowsiness.

"Az? What's wrong?" She asked, waking up more and more. It was still ridiculously early, the sun not even having come up yet.

Azriel let out a low growl that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

She pushed herself up into an upright position, trying to focus in the dim room as she tried to spot him in the darkness.

"The shadows kidnapped a baby."

Well, that woke her up.

She was after him in a flash, managing to grab her sweater from the chair as she followed him downstairs. The house was cold and quiet and...dark.

And then she froze.

What in the world...

They shadows had actually kidnapped a literal baby. It hadn't actually registered until she saw it with her own two eyes.

A baby.

An Illyrian baby. If the little wings slumped to the floor were anything to go by.

The baby sat on the floor, staring at them with big dark eyes. It wasn’t newborn. It could sit up…mostly unasssisted if a little wobbly. 

The shadows writhed around the room, agitated as they curled and moved, seemingly restless.

And the baby...the baby didn't seem to be upset or scared despite the fact that they had just been kidnapped. The baby's gaze didn't shift from them, big brown eyes watching them with wide but calm expression.

Not scared at all, even when a bunch of shadows had just kidnapped said baby and dumped them on the carpet in the midst of a strange new room. 

Bruises painted painfully thin little arms that stuck out of a filthy and lumpy dress that had seen much better days. Zahra had seen kids of horrible poor people that looked better than this one did.

"Cauldron boil me," Azriel breathed just as Zahra stepped towards the baby that still just stared at her.

"Be careful," Azriel warned her but didn't try to stop her.

Zahra just stared at him. 

"It's a baby," Zahra said drily. What was the baby supposed to do to her? "Just a baby. Hey, sweetheart," she cooed and the baby stared at her wide eyed. "You must be so confused..." but she didn't seem confused as Zahra kneeled in front her. The baby just kept staring at her. "Where are her parents?" She hissed under her breath knowing that Azriel would hear her nonetheless.

Her mother died in childbirth, the shadows helpfully supplied. And her father locked her in a dungeon.

…what?

Zahra's blood ran cold, the words making her feel sick to her stomach.

What sick kind of...

She stared at the baby in front of her, the too skinny limbs, the bruises, the filth sticking to her skin, the clothes that didn't fit her.

This was wrong, the whole thing was wrong.

"Azriel, what..." Esmeray's voice. Zahra turned to find Azriel's mother ... ashen faced. Though Azriel didn’t look much better.

"By the mother," Esmeray breathed. "She looks just like you." Zahra turned back to the baby, taking in the hazel eyes and the black cut hair... the full lips, the proud nose...a straight up copy from Azriel.

She's his half brother's bastard daughter, the shadows helpfully provided. We couldn't just leave her in the dungeon!

The words had Zahra turning her attention back to the baby, the resemblance now glaringly obvious.

A spitting image of Azriel, as close as she could be without being a carbon сору.

She's just a baby!

Just a baby. Just an innocent little baby that somebody locked into a fucking dungeon. 

How dare they?!

Something warm and possessive welled up in her, her heart twisting. 

Zahra didn’t hesitate another moment.  "Come here, sweetheart," she said softly, picking her up. "We'll get you all cleaned up."

Zahra had expected something from the baby at that. Some form of protest at being picked up by a stranger woman. But the baby stayed silent, just watching… flinching away from her touch, even when Zahra did her best not to hurt her.

That little flinch away made Zahra's heart twist once more, the baby clearly having been treated terribly.

She carried the baby over to the kitchen sink to wash her…The poor thing was covered in dirt and grime, her short hair matted and tangled in filthy strands.

Zahra held the baby carefully, her hands almost impossibly gentle as she tried not to hurt the girl as she filled the sink with warm water to start washing her.

"Does she have a name?" She asked the shadews.

No. No one cared enough to give her one. the shadows said softly, their voice sad and soft in a way she hadn't heard it before.

This poor baby didn't even have a name, just... nothing.

Like…she was nothing. Thrown away into a dungeon. Forgotten. Ignored. 

It made something rage bubble and roil in Zahra’s gut.

This tiny, innocent child didn't have a name. The idea made tears well up in her eyes as she cupped the baby's cheek gently.

The baby just looked at her wide eyed, still not making a noise, even as Zahra undressed her from her filthy rags.

Zahra gritted her teeth as her blood boiled as more bruises and more grime were revealed, her movements becoming slightly shaky as she tried to not think about it.

She carefully put her in the warm water, the baby jerking once in her grip and then seemingly making peace with her fate, as Zahra cleaned off the grime, showing more bruises painting her skinny little body.

The baby let out a soft whine in pain, a small whimper that made Zahra nearly break down as she had to move her hands around the baby to clean her.

She couldn’t help herself, just wanting to take the pain away, as her hands started to glow.

The bruises and sores seemed to just...fizzle away, the healing magic working its way through the abused skin.

At the feel of the magic, the baby's head snapped back to look up at Zahra, her eyes widening.

And then for the first time, a light seemed to come back in these impossible sad eyes...as she made a soft cooing sound and reached for the harmless little sparks that were flowing of her hands. And then....a gigggle.

It was the most beautiful sound she ever heard.

Zahra felt tears well in her eyes, the sight of the baby reaching up the glowing magic, the sound of her laughter making her choke up.

She sounded happy, no longer so sad and lifeless.

The glow of the magic seemed to calm her, and Zahra...she just kept the magic running through her hands, not wanting to stop when it made the baby happy.

The magic danced over her skin, the baby making soft cooing sounds as she reached up to try to capture a spark in her little hands, her bruised skin healing more and more under Zahra's touch. These little hands patted gently against Zahra's glowing ones as she seemed utterly fascinated.

Zahra just stared at the baby, warmth and affection rising from her heart with every little giggle or coo that left the baby's lips. She had never... she had never heard anything more beautiful than the baby's laughter.

It was a bright little sound, of pure happiness

The sound warmed Zahra's soul and she found herself starting to smile as she watched the baby's chubby hands reach up to her own, trying to grasp them.

She offered her hand, letting the little girl wrap her hand around her thumb as she grinned at gummily.

The baby's fingers seemed so delicate and small in Zahra's hands, her little hand so perfectly able to wrap around her thumb, her chubby cheeks rounding with a smile as she made another happy sound.

She looked up to see Azriel and she was stunned at his expression.

Azriel looked like he was staring at something utterly miraculous, his eyes wide and so so soft.

The baby let loose another giggle and it only seemed to make Azriel's expression soften even further.

He...he looked like he was staring at something utterly precious

Zahra swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on him as she watched his reaction to the baby's laughter.

"...l have some baby clothing upstairs, maybe some of that will fit her,” Esmeray said quietly.

Azriel seemed to snap out of his daze, turning to his mother.

The baby cooed, wiggling her wings and shifting restlessly in the warm water, still staring at Azriel with her wide eyes.

Azriel didn't manage to tear his gaze away from the baby, his eyes still soft as he just ... looked at her as if she was the most precious creature ever born

It was so fucking stupid, but Zahra couldn't help herself.

 "Can we... Can we keep her?" She asked weakly. "If she has no other family...can we keep her?" She couldn’t help herself. 

She never…She had never…thought about it. About having kids now.

Zahra had known that she wouldn’t be able to have children herself and had tried to make peace with that and had failed utterly. 

But this baby…this baby…

She had been unexpected and utterly delightful. 

Azriel stared at her, his eyes wide, and then…a smile slowly stretched over his face. 

"Do you..." he cleared his throat, still staring at the baby as he spoke. "Do you want to keep her?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Zahra's gaze snapped up to the baby, a wave of affection and protectiveness washing over her.

"I do," she breathed out without a single moment of hesitation.

The baby seemed to be watching her with wide, innocent eyes, her little hand still wrapped tightly around Zahra's thumb.

“I don’t think I ever wanted anything more,” she whispered.  Zahra found herself smiling softly, affection and love swirling in her chest and overflowing. The emotion was like a dam bursting open, spilling out of her heart and overwhelming all rational thought.

"Then we'll do everything in our power so that we can," Azriel said simply as he crossed the room to stand behind her. “Then we’ll keep her,” he promised her fiercely. “She’s adorable.”

"I don't ever want her back in a dungeon," Zahra said softly. "She doesn't deserve that. Nobody does.”  He nodded as he wrapped his arms gently around Zahra's waist and leaned his head against her shoulder.

The baby seemed to watch them, wide eyes fixed as she still held tightly onto Zahra's thumb.

"She doesn't," he agreed softly.

She felt him press a gentle kiss against her shoulder, the gentle affection of the gesture nearly enough to make her sob.

"Here," Esmeray said as she arrived back in the living room. "More soap and...some clothing,” she said softly. “We'll need to see if that fits her...she looks around...6 months old maybe?"

The baby's head turned to look at Esmeray, her attention pulled away from Azriel and Zahra for the moment.

Zahra had to bite back a laugh at seeing Azriel's crestfallen look at losing the baby's attention.

"About that," Zahra agreed as she gently pulled her hand from the baby fist to wash her hair properly. It was replaced by Ariel hesitantly offering one massive scarred finger that the baby clearly saw as a perfect replacement.

There was something utterly... precious about the way the baby latched on with her little fingers, gripping tightly onto Azriel's finger that seemed so large compared to her delicate hand.

"She is not going back where she came from," Esmeray said sharply as she watched the baby.  "I hope you know that. Either I'll keep her or we find somebody else that..."

"We'll keep her," Azriel said softly. “Zahra and I will keep her.” His voice had such a firm note to it, a determination that broached no argument. But it was also gentle, almost tender in that moment, leaving absolutely no doubt that he meant what he said.

"Oh," Esmeray breathed, but then a small smile bloomed on her face. "Good." Then a moment later. “Welcome to parenthood then,” she said with a grin, and Zahra column’t help the smile that stretched over her face, a wave of affection and a fierce protectiveness taking hold in her chest.

Parenthood. 

She was theirs now. And Zahra was not going to let her go again. 

"She needs something to eat," she said as she washed out the baby's hair carefully, taking a towel Esmeray offered to dry her off. She happily slumped in Zahra's arms and didn't even seem to care when Zahra dressed her clumsily in a cotton nightgown and a fresh diaper. 

"I have some goat milk we can try," Esmeray offered. To say that the baby ... greedily drunk the milk that Zahra carefully offered to her in a cup was an understatement. But then, by how thin she was...Zahra didn't want to imagine when was the last time she had properly eaten. 

The baby drank the goat milk so quickly and so greedily, her tiny fingers clutching at the glass as she drank. As if scared someone would take the food away from her.

It was a heartbreaking sight.

Zahra felt her eyes sting at the sight, her own heart aching as she watched the baby drink the milk as if it was the most precious thing ever.

"We can try some porridge later maybe," Esmeray said softly. "She already cut her first few teeth… that should be fine…”

Anything. They needed to find some way to fatten her up a little…especially as she seemed to shiver with a cold, even as Zahra wrapped her up in a blanket and held her again his chest. She just pressed closer to her. 

"She needs a name," she told Azriel softly as she gently rubbed her back, her eyes fluttering.  "She deserves a name."

"Any ideas?" Azriel asked softly, staring at the baby with such an expression of adoration that it made Zahra's chest ache

She wanted to kiss the look on his face, to kiss his cheek and pull him closer, but she resisted, swallowing back the urge as she tried to think of a fitting name for the little baby girl.

Her gaze fell to the tiny wings protuding from her back that weakly ... twitched as she rubbed between them. She could see the scars on where they grew from her back. 

She didn’t want to imagine what had been done to her to result in these either. 

"Is there...are there traditional illyrian names?" she asked. Some part of her heritage that…that they should respect?

"Some more, some less," Esmeray answered drily. "There are the old ones and over time, more and more names from the High Fae bled over to us as well. There are names that were simply made up and of course, names from out fables and tales that are used.But whatever name you give her...as long as you give it to her out of love, you couldn't possible go wrong," Esmeray promised her softly. "And you are right...it's just wrong for her not to have a name at all."

"Do you want to name her after your mother?" Azriel asked her softly but Zahra shook her head.

"No. She should have her own name," Zahra said softly. "A name that's just her own."

She stared out of the window...to the windowsill where Esmeray had put the flowers she had given her the day before and her eyes snapped to the wild bouquets of wildflowers...with the one bright pink random Azalea in there for good measure.

"Azalea."

Esmeray blinked, a small smile slowly appearing on her face."Azalea," she nodded. "I think she is an Azalea," the woman agreed warmly.

The baby seemed to have started to droop, her little eyes blinking tiredly as she seemed to be fighting to stay awake…her wings slumping. 

Zahra looked to Azriel who was watching the baby quietly. 

"For humans, azaleas mean love and the renewal of hope," she told him softly.

Azriel had a soft smile on his face, the expression so tender and full of affection.

"Azalea," he sounded out the name. "It's beautiful," he breathed, still fixedon the sleeping baby girl. "Azalea it is." he agreed softly.

[raytoebiter]

xv. young blood spills tonight (written work)

It's a really, really beautiful fucking day. That's no doubt. Like, at all.

Why's that, you ask?

Well, simply because the endless sea above you is winking at the little organisms with their clear blue skies devoid of the usual cotton white. Then, there’s also the breeze that has been blessing (bugging) everyone's asses by flipping skirts and sending papers flying.

And well, yeah, those are the usual signs that your day is going to go well.

The biggest catch, whatsoever?

Shitty Asshole (Scaramouche) finally decided to stop acting like there was a permanent stick up his ass with every interaction he had with you.

Or in simpler terms, he stopped bothering you.

And hey, going by your definition, it really means that he hasn't called you names nor did he prolong a conversation by unabashedly acting like a fuckboy to grind your gears.

And, well. That? That's really fucking strange.

Some people (Hu tao) may suggest going to the person, and asking, “hey, are you okay?” considering that the asshole looks like he got hired by a shitty animation studio and was overworked during the weekdays, but considering how much he irritates you on a normal day?

You would dare say; hell, no. You don't have any damn plans in crossing the lines of rivalry just to reignite the spark of hatred that's holding your relationship with him. You also don't got any damn clue if he stopped simply because he felt guilty for pushing you down (which, going by your interactions with him on Monday, doesn't seem to be the case at all) nor if he stopped because his ginger friend is finally shooting his shot (which also doesn't seem to be the case since it's unreasonable as hell).

Either way, you'd rather enjoy this blissful predicament rather than finding the catalyst behind it.

(You completely, and resolutely ignore the gnawing itchy bitch inside of you that keeps moaning about the fact that you haven't had a proper argument with the Asshole since Monday.)

And besides, it's not like it's any of your business to pry on his personal problems, right?

So yeah, the angel on your shoulder (that annoyingly sounds a lot like Hu tao) can fuck off, and the beautiful day you spoke of can continue on without any grape-hair bothering you.

A giggle left your lips, the sound utterly high. If you were in the right state of mind, you would've been nauseated with how you're acting.

But.. right now? You’re quite literally bouncing off from, holy shit, I'm gonna go on a date with Childe—to—Oh my god, what am I even gonna wear!?—to—He’s such a flirt, god, he's so attractive–

—and then, finally—wait, hold on, I need to fulfill that damn request, fuck!

With that, disgust burns your esophagus and you're instantly upset, because fucking hell. You have to hang out with the guy that's been avoiding you for.. what? A fucking week? Just ‘cause of some shitty obscure reason?

Like, seriously, come on. Pushing you off the stairs is nothing but a damn stepping stone for your hatred to go onward, right? It's really nothing, so why the fuck is he doing this cold-shoulder thing?

You scoff as you turn on your phone, opening the contacts app, then scrolling until you see the infamous, “the insufferable asshole whom i shall not dare interact”.

God, the nickname was such a great idea.

The conversation that lit against your face brings some sort of annoying churning in your stomach, and you scowl at the feeling. Don't tell me I'm feeling sentimental about this shit.

Then, as you shudder from the prick needles poking at your skin, you instantly chuck the thought to the murkiest depths of your mind; hoping to never be seen again because, holy fuck.

Deeply sighing, you clicked on the call button, index finger lightly tapping and making circles on the counter as you pressed the phone to your ear.

The phone luckily rings until it makes a familiar clicking sound.

“What—”

“Shut up, where are yo—actually, no, scratch that. Come here early, like right now, ASAP.”

A notable silence on the other line. You briefly wonder if you should've let him finish, but then again, any pleasant business the other had could fucking wait.

“Yeah, no. I'm on my way to the entrance road, dipshit,” the other bit out after a moment. There's light sweeps of air in the background, and a fleeting thought occurs to you that the Asshole might be walking considering the lack of engine noise.

You cross your legs, squinting at the door because wasn't the entrance road atleast 3 miles away from the café? isn't that so far?

“...Don’t tell me the Grand Scaramouche is actually walking? Whatever happened to your Porsche, hm?”

Scaramouche simply chuckled, the sound reverberating through your spine, sending shudders along the way. You end up reaching for the blanket that, fuck, was currently perched on a damn desk chair a feet away from you.

For a few seconds, the words simply hung in the air.

You have half a mind to ask what the fuck was up with him, only to absolutely shrug it off as you finally snatch the blanket, fabric warm and just so fucking perfect, goddamnit.

It's then the Asshole finally makes a noise and—

“Well, might as well enjoy the shitty scenery before I quit, right?

Your entire world stops. Not in the sense like those shitty romantic scenes, of course, but in the sense that you just discovered something so fucking shocking that your world quite literally stops functioning for a second.

Because, seriously, what the ever-loving fuck?

Don't tell me I fucking did something wrong? I didn't even do anything. Like, shit. But didn't we just have a talk in monday? didn't we, like err, fucking.. glare at each other in wednesday? What the fuck is up with this guy? Is he jealous? Wait no, that's not really reasonable. Is it Childe? Is he avoiding me because Childe told him to just so he could shoot his shot? Wait, maybe it was the push—no, fuck, wait. What was all that talk about, ‘wanting to stay here a little bit fucking longer, then—

A snort. A really, ugly and mocking snort, “you do realize you've been muttering all that like a stupid ass ESPN commentator, right?”

And right now, as tempting as the idea of screaming, “what the fuck do you mean!? what was all that beating for then!?” to him really is: you, a beloved fuckin’ saint, instead, made the very difficult and extremely mature decision to not push your luck.

And that is to hang the fuck up, LMAO.

Might be an overreaction considering that you once chanted a whole ass pseudo-manifestation on Scaramouche quitting for some inexplicable reason but..

..It's an embarrassment to your dignity to admit—but, fuck it, anyway.

You'd rather take a barrel of a sailor’s vocabulary ebbing out of his mouth rather than this odd silent treatment he's been doing with you.

It's not that you missed him or anything—god, no—it’s just.. really anticlimactic considering that the only connection the two of you have is your rivalry with him; with all the shitty remarks he makes, the brawls you have with him, and the constant bickerings that happens on a daily basis now that you were coworkers.

At some point, you've always kept the notion of having a relationship more than just hatred in the damn Pandora’s box, simply because you couldn't really fathom something stable and promising with him, especially with the Asshole’s personality being equivalent to having a fire up your buttcrack.

Not only that, there's no fucking way that asshole is getting away after pushing you off down the stairs (1), doing a whole pep-talk about wanting to stay in the café longer (2), offhandedly showing up to the first day with his goddamn porsche whom you haven't seen in a few days now and you miss it so bad (3), get into a brawl only to have your beloved grandmother see it and force the two of you into a 30-minute lecture on why fighting brings bad benefits (4), and be one of the sole witnesses of you having a panic attack (5) only to fucking leave?

Well, atleast he's got the fucking balls.

Feeling the rush of adrenaline, you pocketed your phone, the initial plan of changing out of your clothes completely and utterly forgotten as you hurriedly scurried to put on your shoes and bursted out of the room.

Your grandmother furrowed her brow at the sight and sound of the door slamming against the wall, “dear? where are you headed to? why are you still in your clothes?”

You grabbed your necessities (phone, check, money, check, food.. nah, scratch that), and sent a reluctant glance at your confused grandmother, “can I take the shift off today? I.. need to catch up with a friend super, duper quickly and apparently the ass—ass.. something is leaving today. And they didn't even tell me about it so—”

“Alright, alright,” Your grandmother gently interjected, attention now fixated on whatever was on the counter, “you ought to tell me these earlier though, okay? I'll call Xiao to help out.”

A groan left your lips, hand already twisting the knob as you turned one last time, “tell him to not act like a stuck-up dick though!”

And distantly, “make sure to bring an umbrella!” along with the cracked laughter resonating in the air as you took off.

–

The wind howled through the trees, sending chills up your spine. Your grandmother was fucking right. You should've bought a damn umbrella.

You rubbed at your arms, slowly contemplating whether to go back to the café and just endure the agonizing back pain for a couple of days, or wait in the goddamn bus stop since most likely, the Asshole will probably go through there.

The latter is so, so fucking tempting, especially with how there's light rain dotting the pavement now—

Wait, light rain?

Panic strikes, you cautiously and hesitantly glanced up at the sky, as if it was some blood-curdling demon drooling at the sight of a frightened prey. Fuck, you should've known it was going to fucking rain cats and dogs the moment you saw the skies being abundantly clear as fuck.

And, holy shit. The café is atleast a mile away and the bus stop is still at least 3 blocks down, fuck wait, what do I do!? Should I call the Asshole? Surely, he brought a fucking umbrella, right? Hold on, shit. Fuck this motherfucking—

Just as you’re about to curse the entire fucking mother nature bloodline, the featherlight droplets tapping onto your shoulders turns into something much, much more overwhelmingly heavier, soaking your head then your clothes.

A fleeting thought of jumping off the river near the café crosses your mind, but you immediately shrug it off.

Eventually, an exasperated groan left your lips, gaze now facing forward as you stared at the foggy mist that now started to descend on your way. Your back still aching even after a few days doesn't help, and the heavy rain patting your clothes, gradually soaking it certainly doesn't fucking help either.

God, a sick leave on Monday doesn't really sound like a happy-go-lucky choice, doesn't it? Sighing, you reach for your skirt pockets, rummaging through until you find the familiar device.

Immediately just as you take it out, it gets drenched.

Am I really going stupid?

You annoyingly frowned, slightly lowering your body to cover it from the rain as you frantically pressed the power button and—

Fucking voila! It's fucking dead! The bright 0% winking at you like a delicious fucking meal on the table!

For several fucking seconds, you frigidly stood there, hand loosely clutched around the jackshit motherfucking device, with your nervous system going haywire, and the absolute urge to snap your spine in half coursing through your body like blood flow.

Oh, and there's also the impending chill down there that holy fuck, you're going to get sick.

What a fuck-up day this is. All because of that damn Ass—

Okay, that's too unreasonable. You did choose this, after all.

Still. You shouldn't have fucking gone out. Hell, you should've listened to your grandmother.

A crackle above snaps you out of your thoughts, all suddenly aware of the fabric clinging to your skin with the coldest motherfucking sensation, and you shudder, pocketing your phone.

Right. Shelter.

–

After squeaky shoes, near-death instances (one of which being almost tripping over a damn dead toad in the middle of the street), and the occasional middle fingers from Mother Nature, you finally reached the bus stop. And as per usual, it's devoid of the crowd that used to piss you off when you were a kid.

Muscle movement from all over the years has you reaching out to the bench and lightly dusting it, only to realize what you were doing, deadpanned, then reluctantly sat at the wet bench. An embarrassing squeak of your shoes bringing heat to your cheeks.

Years ago, these roads, now looking as if they've been deserted, used to be the lone passageway to Qingce Village. A small, remote town near the Inazuma borders. However, because there were a shit ton of animals running around bare-assed (take the shitty toad as an example), the officials or whatever had to force the roads to shut down.

Now, it's officially been recognized as a restricted area.

Well, not really. Considering that some kids can still do shitty hide n’ seek once in a while, but it's often discouraged.

Well, fuck the discouragement, you can do whatever you want. Besides, it's not like the Liyue Qixing actually gives two fucks about it, especially now that Qingce village looks more like an abandoned town rather than an actual village.

Though, some tourists and occasional students seem to like the idea of abandoned places, so they’re often seen in the area doing whatever.

Your eye twitches when a drop falls just right in front of your nose, thoughts immediately halted. Fuck, should you really wait here for Scaramouche to show up? The biting cold fabric against your skin is really, really not comfortable. But in some way, it does kind of help with your back ache, so there's some benefits to that.

A shiver. Then, a sneeze.

Man.

You're so dead the moment you come back. You don't even know what time it is for fuck’s sake! But guessing from the time you left and the time you walked to get here, it must be around 4:35PM already. The rain is still moderately heavy, and the shitty roof, that's basically worn out rust, has holes in it, so it barely just does the job right.

The faint pattering of the rain against your shoulder feels soothing in some way, and the slight fog seems to disperse from all that shitty walk so now, the area is a bit visible.

And man, what a fucking calming shitshow. You ought to thank Scaramouche for this.

Wait, hold on, speaking of Scaramouche, hasn't it been at least an hour since you called him? And 3 miles is atleast..

You nervously chuckle, no way, right?

No way he reached the café while you were out here, shivering and dying from the rain, right?

It's been an hour. A full fucking hour!

No way. Yeah, nope. Nope. Nope, no, fucking nope.

There's just no way. You’ll see him in the street, wave him over, reprimand him until he stays, then force him to hang out to fulfill the request.

Yeah. Definitely.

And, anyway. What the hell was the Asshole up to? Out of nowhere, he just wants to.. quit?? What is up with that? You certainly know it's not about the environment, or anything. So, what the fuck was it? Not only that, he seemed casual about the ‘pushing’ incident too, so, really, what the fuck is he really up to—

A hand. A shadow of a hand creepily loomed over your form, creating a shadow just below your toes, and you jolted, heart suddenly skipping a few beats as you hastily turn around and holy shit—

“Scaramouche!?”

He carefully surveys you, the seconds feeling like an eternity as his hand idly floated mid-air, before he leered in disgust, “god, you look so fucking horrible right now.”

A dull ache throbbed in your temple, already feeling the Scaramouche-Induced-Migraine settling in the hypothalamus of your brain, “yeah, no shit. I look terrible, and ugly. Ever wondered why that is?”

Right now, the Asshole is clutching a beautiful, useful umbrella and there's a plastic bag hanging off of his forearm. A droplet falls right on top of your head, kindly reminding you once again of the beautiful, useful umbrella in his hold.

“Are you going to stop looking at my umbrella, or what? I'll share with you, don't worry.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, “you didn't bring an extra one?”

He rolled his eyes, turning to the side, then to you, “are you stupid? your granny chased me out of the café to ‘find’ you. what idiot even goes out in a weather like this?”

His head tilts slightly upward in gesture, while you spiralled down in the fact that, fuck yeah, I was right. He really did reach the café first.

“Well?”

“Got bored,” you easily lied, shrugging your shoulders for the extra effect, “I didn't think it'd rain this.. hard.”

“So, you really are stupid.”

"Shut up! I just got bored, okay?"

“Well, blah blah, anyway. Let's go back to the shitty café,” he turned sideways, reckoning you over with his head like you were some shitty dog.

It only struck you as your eyes drifted to his in pensiveness that—this was the first conversation you've ever had with him since Monday. And, he was going to leave. Just like that.

And, god. You've gone two years. Two years without talking to him except the occasional blistering arguments on social media that still pissed you off to this day. Hell, you even went on four days without having a proper conversation albeit the fact that you saw him everyday in that.

You've managed just fine. Felt no difference. Felt nothing.

But.. fuck?

Why does it feel different when he's talking to you, then?

Why the fucking motherfuck does your heart feel the fucking need to feel fucking restless to the fucking point of fucking beating so fucking loudly?

You suddenly, and viciously regretted locking gazes with him, considering how there was now a huge ass stretch in silence as you two stared each other down; the gaze neither intense nor did it ebb hatred.

Though, the way his eyes settled over to yours do feel like he's stripping you down from your skin to your heart, and oh fuck, don't tell me he can hear my heartbeat? holy fuck, this is embarrassing, what the fuck do I do? why is he staring at me like that? don't tell me I have a leaf over my head?? wait, hold on. should I break the stare or what? this is so fucking embarrassing—

An amused sound between a snort and a laugh. Presumably an involuntary one as he covers his mouth in reciprocated shock.

“What's so funny?”

An slight smirk creeps at his face “you're such a mumbler.”

A frown, “that's not even a word—”

“Are we going back to the café, or are you going to keep standing there like an idiot who just got dumped? Because you really look like you got stood up by a piece of shit right now.”

Okay. Calm. One, two, three..

You tried not to let the indignance take over your face as you held up a pseudo smile in agreement. Scaramouche eyed you for a moment, and then sighed before turning around.

There goes my plan in taking him to hang out. Maybe I'll ask him after school tomorr—

Wait. Hold on.

“Wait, uh. Do you—”

His feet halted, just right in the center of your vision and only then did you realize you were looking down like an idiot. God, this is so embarrassing.

You hesitantly looked up, confidently glared at him square in the eye (since glaring has always been your forte with him) and blurted, “hang out with me. like, right now.”

Silence. You can already feel the regret creeping in when all he does is fucking watch, and watch with those shitty fucking ass purple motherfucking eyes with the imperceptible fucking glint shining in them and—

“What on the fucking earth,” his expression was flat, but he did have that aghast-amused tilt to his eyebrows.

That's how you knew it was a success. All doubt and humility instantly drained out of you as you grinned, the mean and confident one that you knew made your features look devilish, “what? it's gonna be your last shift anyway, and I had to take a shift off—don’t give me that look and don't ask why—so, why not just hang out with me? I'm sure grandma would let you off.”

“O..kay?” he drawled in incredulity, a brow curiously quirking up as he turned to you fully, “so, what the fuck are we doing today, Dora the Explorer?”

“Uh, we could—erm,” you tried. you failed, “I don't know! I haven't thought that far!”

“Okay, jack-ass. We're going back to the café—”

“No!”

“And drink some shitty warm water—”

“Nope!”

“And—”

Before he could fucking finish because it really was starting to piss you off, you tore the beautiful, useful umbrella from his hold, stumbling him forward as you slowly took a step back.

You watched the realization slash amusement crawl over his pale features, twisting it up to a scowl, “give it back.”

A blink, then an idea came to you along with an impish grin, “well.. you'd just have to get it from me, then.”

And with that, you took off.

Scaramouche gaped at you, looking absolutely debauched as he realized what you were the fuck up to. And at that moment, you smiled.

You give it at least three counts.

One… his head swerves left and right.

Two… his gaze locked onto you.

Three… then, he made a break for it.

A wet ass road isn't really a good place to run a marathon in along with the (still) heavy rain blurring your vision as you dashed to who-the-fuck knows where, but right now?

As the cold nips against your skin like some sort of fucking leech and the Asshole few meters away from behind you chasing like a madman..

It feels like a whole otherworldly experience.

You'd never imagined running in the rain, soaked and absolutely feeling the impending doom already, with your rival, out of all people.

–

“You're a real fucking idiot, you know that, right?”

Okay. Maybe you are a fucking idiot by, what? Running into the rain with what you presume was one of the best experiences you've ever had but had the shittiest fucking consequences? Yeah.

Presently, the two of you are fortunately situated on a cliff with a bench. Totally I-Know-a-Spot vibes with an abandoned ass gasoline station just right off the side. Though, how did the two of you manage that? Well, your dumbass decided to run off the forest and somehow managed to end up here.

At some point during your whole life living in these parts, you've always seen the cliff in your peripherals but never had actually gone through the effort of going to it. So, yeah more or less, it's really your first time being here and, holy fuck is it divine.

The sun kissed the area with gold, blessing the two of you with the warmth it gives. The scenery is really the fucking catch though; with the sun infront of you, half of the village seen just below, café being literally quite just under the cliff and whatnot.

Oh, and yeah. The rain stopped mid-way as the two of you ran, so right now, you're currently dying with the left-over chill.

A shiver runs through your body, and you breathed out a sigh, “you enjoyed it, anyway. you can't really complain, you know?”

He glares at you, awfully looking like a stray hissing after being dumped with water, “fuck, no. I almost tripped twice. Heard that? Fucking twice, [Name]. That was not fun.”

As if he didn't stifle a laugh when you accidentally dropped the umbrella, “yeah, sure, Mr. Nonchalant. Also, I stepped on a dead toad on the way here, so.. again. you can't complain, I've had it worse.”

A roll of his eyes, and god, one more roll and I swear to the universe, I'm gonna make that permanent, “okay, piss grenade.”

“Piss—excuse me, what?”

“You know, explosive and lethal piss? Stuck in a grenade, and when you throw it, it becomes a piss shower?”

Silence.

“Yeah,” a scowl formed on your face as you conjured an image, “that's not really..”

He narrowed his eyes, “don't kinkshame me.”

“What—”

“So, when is the hang-out actually gonna start?” you can see the shiver creepily crawling over his body, and he tensed like a cat.

Ha, cat. Cat…

You awkwardly cleared your throat, murmuring, “I don't know.. actually. Wanna—uh. Wanna stay here and like, I don't know, watch the shitty sunset, or something?”

And again, his face comically deadpans. You can probably see the iconic SFX behind the background as he watches you with keen, fucking purple eyes.

“Is this really the same [Name] [Last Name] that told me to fuck myself on Monday?”

A snort escapes your lips as you nudge him by the ribs, “haha, very funny. Yes, I am, you asshole. God, you really do have a derogatory kink, don't you?”

His eyes glint in mischief, voice raising a playful lint, “oh, yeah? don't tell me you have a praise kink? Come on, don't get turned off, I'll praise you just fine.”

Your jaw gapes, like absolutely gapes and drops, before dramatically scooting further away from him, “yeah, no. I'd rather eat my own hand than have you praise me like that ever. Please stop the harassment.”

“Sure, fruitcake. And we're soaking up the entire bench, and it feels so fucking disgusting. When are we gonna get back?”

Oh. That's right.

“Are you…” you gulp, heart fucking doing somersaults, “are you actually going to resign?”

And at that—a glimmer in his eyes caught your attention as he turned to you; a permission to open up, to spill whatever bullshit he wanted, and you? Well, who are you to refuse?

“No,” he answers, “well, after today and that shitty run, I decided to shove the middle finger to my mom and maybe ask to postpone the offer.”

A hum left your lips, swaying your feet back and forth, “what’s the offer about anyway?”

“A modeling offer. I was given a chance to undergo some sort-of fuckin’ teaching class about modelling—which, I don't fucking want, by the fucking way. But. Ugh, my mom forced me. After that, I'll probably inherit her company or some shit.”

That doesn't really..

As if reading your mind, he continues, clutching the edge of the bench a little tighter, “and the reason why I don't want to take it is because it completely fucks up my schedule; after-school hours? fucked, cowgirl style. weekends? fucked, missionary style. Hell, even holidays? fucked, mating press style.”

He sharply chuckled as you gaped at him, and you mumbled, “your mom is too..”

“Selfish? Annoying? Fucking overbearing? Yeah,” he interrupted with a scoff, the sound laced with so much bitterness, “and anyway, I think I'll postpone it until I'm done with Senior High School. I have plenty of reasons anyway.”

You slowly blinked, still trying to process how.. weirdly dictatorial his mom was. You don't really give a fuck in that part of the industry, considering that you're way too focused on school to actually give a fuck about anything else other than being a barista (and speaking of school, fuck, you still had that physics assignment that's due by 11:59PM).

And, anyway. Holy fuck, you're absolutely going to have a hard time processing the fact that you just had your first ever official uninterrupted emotional conversation with Scaramouche. Or anything that involved non-rivalry things at all. The others are definitely going to have a field day with this and, ugghhh, you can already feel the undeniable burn in your eyes and the sting in your throat—

“Okay, thanks for listening,” he states dryly, eye-judging you as a droplet from his hair falls, “so awesome of you to go on a mumbling tirade while I was pouring my whole shitty sou—”

“Shut up, you asshole! Jeez, my grandma’s gonna kill me after this. I left without saying anything, I didn't even bring the umbrella she gave me! All because I chose to hang out with you, ugh."

“Aww, scared I'd be out of your sight, fruitcake? you must love me that much, huh.”

“No,” you bluntly say, “absolutely fucking not. Gross, by the way. I was just worried about you since we stopped talking for a week, and now you're dipping? no way, you're still my rival and I'm not letting you go until I see you in second place in the final rankings.”

He raised a brow, “we could still be—”

“Shut it.”

“..Okay, you sap.”

“Gross.”

And for the first fucking time ever, a comfortable silence settles in and goddamn, you missed the sunset. Slowly though as you watched from above, the blue-ish fog dissipated from the sky, leaving an endless sea of ink with dotted white.

And of course, as usual, the Asshole opens his gasbag mouth with his gaze transfixed on the skies above, “I really don't like stars.”

Just as you're about to retort, or atleast shove him to the sides and tease him, he continues, eyes still fixed to the sky but this time with a frown, “it looks so unreal, sometimes. Like, what the fuck do you mean those are just huge balls of hot gases winking at us like we're some useless specimen? I'm not useless, goddamnit.”

You blinked slowly, then levelled the Asshole with such a deadpanned look, “are you really saying that.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Of course, it would involve your ego. Of course. At this point, it's probably as big as the whole space.”

Scaramouche smugly smirked, “Yeah, ‘cause the fucking space is as big as my dic—”

“—Well, how else do you spend your time than just.. sit and not contemplate about life then?"

“..I don't fucken know? I don't spend my time looking at shit like this and going, “oh! I'm gonna think about my life and how utterly depressing it is!” like most people do. I just do whatever shit that is worth my time.”

You gave him a blank look, “so pessimistic. You must be so fun at parties. And, hey, we don't just immediately start thinking about life and all that. Sometimes, we just, you know, come here to relax.”

“If we're talking about that, then I’d rather look at city lights from above.”

A shrug, “guess that's more like you.”

He scoffed with a smirk, “makes me feel like I'm the star looking down in all those shitty specimens.”

“Ooh,” you cooed absentmindedly, “okay, city-boy.”

That familiar scowl settled in and you jolted, not expecting the nickname to hit a nerve, “oh, fuck off!”

A blink. Then, another blink before the drawl of the nickname left your lips with a higher lint, “city-boy!”

“One more and I swear—”

“City-boy!”

“Fuck—”

“City-boy likes to look at species below and—”

“Fuck the fucking hell off, you fucking mumbling gnome!”

You two didn't share a laugh that night, but you did continue the relentless teasing until, until he had to forcefully drag you down all the way back to the café at Eight-Something in the Post Meridian hours.

Needless to say, the lecture that came after was as warm and soothing as chocolate milk with cookies, after a whole evening of teetering between just outrightly dying of hypothermia, or having to go on because life still wants you in its grasp.

───────────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────────────

|| previous episode - next episode. ||

───〃★tunes of your heartbeat masterlist

synopsis: in which your fate somehow gets entangled into a messy jumble between punk music in cozy cafés, intense rivalry, cherished yakults, parallelograms and quantum physics, competitions in contests and rainy days. or in other words; the universe seems to fucking hate your guts for whatever reason and decided to curse your love life with your awful crass emo twink-a-fuck rival. the question is; did the curse work?

taglist (50/50): @toekissers , @raineyun @localscarasimp , @potteraep , @shutingstar , @feiherp , @scaraenthusiast1 @dazqa , @wraithisd3adinside , @x-hihihi-x , @court-jester-stuff , @automaticpatroltragedy , @lalalaloveallmydays , @trulyylee , @jayzioxx , @featuredtofu @kazemiya @help-whatdoimakemyusername , @skyoverkill1 @phoenix-eclipses , @anqelkoz , @miyakomari @saechiro @franaby , @swivi , @vixialuvs , @heusalettle @kunikissr @yomishen @mywillt0live , @baldrapunzel @jiminscarmex @sushitushi, @liuaneee , @shynsgore , @mechanicalbeat1 , @marivaudages , @okukura , @azzumei @lucid1tty @iloveescara @usagiarchive @kyouzki @theunhingedmf @kangyeonie @mi2ukiss @bubblebellaz @eternallykira-143 @lumiicch

• featured song - into the night by benny mardones

• notes - i've been planning to use this exact song for this chapter for MONTHS like i swear it was one of the first ideas that came to me when i first started the drafr outline for this smau LIKE UGHHH

• "i'd take you into the night," [name] taking scara to the cliff

• "and show you a love like you've never, ever seen," [name] and scara hanging out there and talking about life and silly shit hajdnsjn

• "it's like having a dream," cue "You'd never imagined running in the rain, soaked and absolutely feeling the impending doom already, with your rival, out of all people." HELLO??? I COOKED CHAT I FUCKING COOKED

so yeah that shit above was what i wrote in the draft LMAO

authors' notes - hey freaks guess who's back😝 supposedly, i was gonna post this like two days ago but then BUT THEN a shitty migraine fucked me ten times over the course of two days leaving me absolutely dead ass on my bed so. yeah. and anyhoo, any comments about this is SO much appreciated considering i spent the last week making this while in writer slump (5,3k WORDS BABYYY) and holy shit chat??? we're 50-notes away from??? ONE THOUSAND??? WHATTTTTTTT that was so fugkcing fast HRLP ME thank you for all the support regardless tho😞

p.s - might update more now since WOOHOO SUMMER BREAK IS FINALLY FUCKING HERE

(ask to be added or removed)

[animeomegas]

MtL - Likely to worry if his alpha uses his given name instead of a pet name

(Incl. Iruka, Chouji, Shino, Neji, and Shikamaru.)

A/N: This is a Christmas gift for the wonderful @omeganronpa!!!! It's nothing crazy this year because of the ol' arm situation, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! I wish you a very relaxing and merry Christmas and want you to know that I am honoured to have lived yet another year with you as my friend <3333

And a very merry Christmas and happy Hanukkah to everyone!! 🎉

Warnings: Non-descriptive allusions to sex.

LEAST

Chouji

A normal, well adjusted king, we stan.

Pet names sometimes come into the relationship, but Chouji is equally okay with being called Chouji.

That's his name, why should he worry or feel weird? He doesn't have a guilty conscience like some others on this list 👀

In fact, he actually loves to hear his name from your lips. The soft voice, the love, the sing song tone. He revels in it.

There's something about you using his given name with him in private that makes him feel seen. You see him, all of him, the real him, and you love him.

And that's the most precious gift he could have.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: His name or babe usually. Occasionally, super sweet ones like sweetheart or sugarplum, said with complete earnest.

Neji

Neji also likes to go by his actual name a lot of the time, so it doesn't raise any red flags for him to hear it fall from your lips.

Much like Chouji, he finds it entirely logical for you to use his given name, and he never assumes you're mad at him.

I only put him a bit higher on the list because he can sometimes get finickity about what you call him in bed.

If you call him by his real name, but you don't use a super gentle, loving tone, he doesn't like it and he WILL get grumpy.

It makes him feel a bit unloved, like the sex is transactional and you're just saying what you think you have to say.

He wants you to call him darling, prince, my love, or any other classic pet name when you're ravishing him, and if you have to use his name, it better be whispered into his skin with hushed reverence befitting the worship of a god.

Otherwise he can sometimes get upset. And because he's Neji, he won't say why he's upset, he'll just pout about it until you notice.

This issue doesn't crop up that often, but it's been known to happen, hence his slightly higher ranking on the list.

My beautiful princess with a disorder, please talk to me.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: He adores the classic but slightly fancier pet names, such as darling, my love, prince(ss). And he's always willing to accept appearance based names, like beautiful, too.

Iruka

When it's just the two of you, or you're in the presence of close friends or family, you always call him Ruka.

Because he's your Ruka at home, just like he's Iruka sensei at the academy, or 'the shouty chunin' at the missions desk.

So it absolutely stands out if you suddenly call him Iruka and he will notice straight away.

But he's still on the terrifyingly small list of mostly well-adjusted shinobi, so he's not going to panic.

He kind of assumes that you're starting a conversation about something more serious when you use his full name. He zones in, fully focused, ready to problem solve whatever has happened.

This has the unfortunate consequence of snapping him out of intimate moments when you use his full name.

Iruka sat on the bed trying his best not to fidget with the comforter as he stared at the bathroom door. His mind was racing with possibilities and no amount of deep breathing or internal arguments about restraint were controlling them.

It had been an entirely normal day ten minutes ago. He'd taught his classes, covered for a few hours at the mission's desk for a sick colleague, and then stopped by a convenience store on the way home so that he didn't have to cook.

Not that you let him in the kitchen anyway.

But then you'd approached him, all coy smiles and well-placed touches, telling him that you had a surprise for him, but that you needed a few moments to get changed and that he should wait on the bed.

So now he was here, on the bed as directed, eagerly anticipating the opening of the ensuite door. Should he get undressed in preparation? No, no, that would probably be weird. But maybe he should take his hair down? Yes that sounded good; you loved his hair down and it would give him something to do while he waited.

He pulled it down and spent a few moments running his fingers through it and trying to arrange it as best he could, but then it was done and you still hadn't opened the door.

He just needed to be patient, you shouldn't be much longer.

Although that was easier said than done when his underwear was becoming uncomfortably wet.

There! He could hear shuffling approaching the bathroom door. He straightened himself out, ready.

"Iruka?" you called from behind the door.

He blinked as he registered his full name. Oh no. Don't tell him something had gone wrong. He was so looking forward to this! His mind conjured images of disaster. Maybe the outfit had ripped? Or you had accidentally hurt yourself? Or the sink had broken and was now spewing water everywhere.

"What's wrong?" he asked, getting up from the bed and approaching the door. "Are you okay?"

The door opened, and you stood on the other side, blinking at him in confusion. He tried not to focus too much on the new lingerie. There was a problem to solve first, he couldn't get distracted.

"Yes?" you answered, the question clear in your voice. "Why are you at the door? I told you to wait on the bed."

Before his mind could catch up, he asked, "Is the sink broken?"

There was a pause.

"Why on earth would the sink be broken?" You sounded entirely baffled.

"Well, I'm not sure, but-"

"Did you do something to the sink?"

"No!" he defended, crossing his arms over his chest. "I haven't touched the sink."

"Then why are you asking about it???"

"Because... because..." Iruka paused when he realised how stupid it would sound to explain that he'd assumed something was wrong because you called him by his full given name. He rubbed at his scar bashfully. "It doesn't matter, sorry, I was being... never mind, don't worry about it."

You blinked at him, and he coughed awkwardly.

"Okaaaaaay," you drawled, stepping back into the bathroom. "Should I close the door again and pretend this never happened?"

"Please."

"Right."

And when you opened the door this time, he was waiting on the bed, stunned speechless by your lingerie and ready to end his normal day in a particularly extraordinary way, bathroom sink forgotten.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Ruka is his favourite by a wide margin. He doesn't mind babe or baby either, nor omega specific names.

Shino

If you're in public, he fully expects you to use his actual name.

In fact, it's for the best that you do, because pet names in public will make him embarrassed enough to try and hide in his coat.

But when you're at home, just you and him... he will immediately assume you're upset with him or signalling a need for space if you use his given name.

Because Shino basks in the loving pet names you lavish him with. He doesn't have to be Shino with you, or at least, he doesn't have to just be Shino with you. He can be your love, your honey bun, your sunshine.

Every time one of those names is whispered in his ear or spoken against his lips, Shino squirms in pure joy. There is nothing else that can brighten his day so quickly and effectively.

And you can absolutely get creative with pet names for Shino!

Excluding the most ridiculous ones, and some of the appearance based ones, Shino loves them all.

But calling him his name is :(((

He will anxiously and sadly wring his hands together every time ����

You let out a relieved breath through your nose as you finished the penultimate page of the paperwork you'd been forced to bring home.

One more. Just one more and you were free for the evening, then you could run it by the jounin commander tomorrow morning, and this whole situation could be behind you.

Work disasters were the absolute worst.

You took in one more big breath before letting it out slowly. One more. You could do one more.

But just as your pen was about the make contact on the paper, movement from the corner of your eye drew your attention out of the little paperwork bubble you'd cocooned yourself in. It was Shino. He was lurking in your periphery like a shadow, idly rearranging knick knacks on the shelf but glancing over in your direction every five seconds.

Now that you were aware of him, you were also aware of the anxiety swirling in his scent. You may have wanted to get this paperwork done and out of your life as soon as possible, but you could hardly ignore your mate's unusual behaviour now that you had been made aware of it.

"Shino?" His head snapped to you instantly. "Are you okay?"

He dropped the eye contact and went back to fiddling with a rock from the shelf. "I'm fine," he said simply, the lie extremely obvious.

"Shino..." To your surprise, he flinched. What?

"I'm... fine." The lie was somehow even more obvious this time. He was either consciously or subconsciously hoping to pull your attention onto him with a lie so blatant.

You stared at him intently, trying to figure out what was wrong. Why would he...?

Oh. Your face relaxed into understanding when you figured out what you'd done.

"What's wrong, lovebug?" You made an effort to push as much affection into your tone as you could. He looked at you again, some surprise colouring his gaze. You patted the seat next to you on the couch in invitation. He immediately accepted, coming over in quick steps and slotting himself against your side. You pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "Is this better, lovely?"

Shino hummed gently, resting his head in the juncture of your shoulder. You grumbled a comforting noise to reassure him.

"I think this paperwork kept me in work mode even after I'd got home," you explained. "I forgot that it was just us here."

Shino hummed again, acknowledging and forgiving you in one noise.

"All the more reason to get this paperwork over and done with so we can relax. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes. Is that alright, honey bun?"

He purred his approval, so you returned to the paperwork, but this time, you had one hand focused on holding your omega.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Anything extremely cute and sweet will make him melt. Honey, sweetie, lovely, etc. Lovebug is one of his special favourites 🤭

Shikamaru

Two words: Guilty Conscience.

He's another one who goes by a shortened name by default, Shika, so calling him Shikamaru will immediately grab his attention.

And he will assume he's in trouble with you every single time.

Sometimes it's pretty funny to watch, but other times his stomach drops and his mind races to try and figure out what you could be mad about.

And during those dramatic times, because Shikamaru can't be normal for even five minutes, he oftentimes jumps to worse case scenarios where he's failing to make his obsession happy and you might leave him because of it.

You never know which response you're going to get when you call him Shikamaru. He's either going to claim his innocence in regards to an imaginary misstep, or Panic™️.

The only exception to the rule is during moments of heightened emotions and extreme vulnerability.

For example, if he's very sad, saying "oh, Shikamaru..." will push him over the edge into tears immediately.

And groaning out his full name at the moment of your orgasm is a one hit K.O. for him without fail.

If you want to avoid the Nara dramatics, better stick to Shika most of the time 😉

"Shikamaru?" He heard your voice clearly from his position on the tatami mats of his office where he was playing a solo game of shogi. Usually, hearing your voice after a long day was a balm that soothed the nerves he hadn't even realised had been frayed, but now, those same nerve ends were crackling with the beginnings of anxiety.

Oh no.

You had used his given name. That couldn't mean anything good.

Shikamaru uncrossed his legs and stood from the floor as his mind raced. He could see the situation clearly in his head. You had come home from work, exhausted, and immediately been confronted by some kind of chore or errand that Shikamaru has said he would run on his day off and then fucking forgot about like he always did! Now you were going to be annoyed with him and his plans for a peaceful evening would go up in smoke because he couldn't even remember what he was supposed to be apologising for.

He heard your footsteps coming up the stairs. "Shikamaru? You in your office?"

Think, think, think! What did you ask him to do? There must have been something! Probably something you could have seen not long after walking through the door, likely in the living room or kitchen.

Shikamaru tugged on his ponytail in frustration as your footsteps reached the landing, just outside his door.

Did he have to wash the cushion covers in the living room? No, he did that last week and there was no need to do them again so soon. Did he promise to make dinner in time for your arrival home? No, no, he specifically remembered you saying that you were going to cook dinner together tonight. Then what could it possibly-

As the door swung open, the answer struck him like a bolt of lightning.

"There you are! Why are you just standing in the middle-"

"I didn't buy soy sauce!" Shikamaru blurted, his voice much louder than he had intended.

You jumped at his shout, blinking at him in surprise. Shikamaru felt the rush of heat that flooded his cheeks. He awkwardly cleared his throat and tried again.

"I forgot to buy soy sauce today." He managed to keep his voice somewhat level this time. "I'm sorry. Really, I didn't mean to forget, it's completely my fault."

Shikamaru tried to analyse your face to see how well his apology had landed, but all he saw was confusion. Right, that made sense. You were confused as to why he was apologising when he should be just going out to fix it.

"Sorry, I'll go and grab some now, it shouldn't take long." When he tried to move past you, you grabbed his arm and halted him.

"You forgot to buy- what? No, I only asked in a 'if you happen to go out today' kind of way, you don't have to go out now, it's not a big deal." You squeezed his arm. "Relax, it's fine."

"But, but we're going to cook dinner together tonight," Shikamaru protested.

"And we'll live without soy sauce for one night." You stared at his face, eyes narrowed like you were trying to solve a puzzle. "What's got into you today?"

Shikamaru's thoughts whirled for a moment, trying to figure out if that question was some kind of trap that would soon reveal the real reason you were upset with him. But soon the energy needed to keep up that level of questioning collapsed, and instinctively, he moved to directness.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, hating the insipid imagery of needy omegas that jumped to mind at the question. This was so stupid, what was he doing?

Your brows furrowed and you gently cupped his face in your hands. Shikamaru shivered as you ran your thumbs against the space underneath his eyes.

"No," you said softly. "Did you think I was?"

His mouth feels dry all of a sudden and he can't form the words, so he just nods. You coo at him, a deep noise in your throat, and Shikamaru is embarrassed at how well it drains the stress from his muscles.

"I'm not angry, Shika. I'm so happy to be home with you, my love."

With your use of his shortened name, the last anxious fog clears and Shikamaru is left only with the stark and sudden realisation that he was being absolutely ridiculous.

You must have noticed the clarity returning to his eyes because you laughed. You laughed at him, all gleeful and knowing. The heat returned to his cheeks and he dropped his head onto your shoulder.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." He could hear the smile in your voice.

"These instincts are more trouble than they're worth."

"You're such a liar, Shika."

Yeah... yeah, he was.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Shika is the go-to, but as long as the pet name is simple and mostly serious (babe, omega etc.) he's fine with it. If you call him something ridiculous like pookie or nugget, he will assume you are making fun of him. And if you aren't making fun of him, he'll make fun of you for thinking it was a good idea.

MOST

[unofficial-estonia]

Unfortunately, hetalia is notoriously bad when it comes to accurate representations of political and historical relations between nations. Russia is the most obvious example with both the show and a distinct portion of the fandom being too uneasy with the idea of portraying the absolute hatred most if not all Eastern European nations feel towards Russia. Actually, the main reason hetalia is so widely hated by most people who happen upon it is because it tries to downplay these conflicts to try and make the show completely unpolitical, so instead of correctly portraying the baltics or Ukraine for example at least heavily disliking Russia, they try to make it into this massive joke where Russia is this scary (but of course ultimately harmless which is even more gross) goliath of a man while the baltics are these snivelling cowards who fear Russia but don't hate him (because of course not)

And I'm sure a lot of Russians have issues with how they're portrayed too, but it's not nearly as heinous. The best way to portray a character in hetalia is to try and actually look into the history and culture of this nation. Hell, tumblr is a huge platform, I'm sure if people wanted to accurately portray a nation, they could just go and ask someone from that country for their opinion, and if even that is too hard, they could at least make the character completely blank and flat so they don't end up offending the people of that nation.

I can totally see why having a character that's supposed to represent my country in a fun and digestible way be this stupid, snivelling coward who has absolutely no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Honestly, how is that supposed to reflect on actual Estonians who didn't elect that as a representative of their history and culture. This show was literally banned in South Korea because of how their country was portrayed in it. Heck, I've had my issues with how my own country is portrayed, and I've always said that much. Ukraine's portrayal is actually just a war crime in my opinion.

So, yeah, it's not exactly surprising that hetalia gets a bunch of hate.

Also, I know I'm probably not the best person to make a comment on this as I am actually a hetalia account, and I've actually had problems with this before where I have incorrectly based my information on a country through hetalia. It's just so shitty because most of the people who are guilty of this literally just don't know how to accurately portray these nations because of the harmful stereotypes hetalia has enforced. Nowadays, I try to reach out to people from the nations I post about to ask about my content before posting it. I avoid tagging nations that I know are often portrayed badly in this show.

Yes, hetalia is supposed to be harmless fun, but it's only that way for the countries that Himaruya thinks deserve it.

Anyway, sorry for the rant.

I had to take a few days to digest this ask. It's a long one, for sure! It's good to know some Hetalians are critical of the source material and understand why many people are upset with the show.

I will reiterate that the blog I reblogged and criticised deserved it. I understand they have been called out before for inaccurate portrayal that borders on ignorance at best.

I am aware that me reblogging a smaller blog is not great. Then again, @ask-computer-nerd-estonia has unforgivably crossed the line.

Estonia and Russia are not friendly countries. Russia has occupied our lands, tried to kill our people and threatens our existence regularly.

To say, even in character role-play, that these countries are friends is a gross misrepresentation of actual facts and history. Doing it days away from the anniversary of one of the worst days in Estonia's recent history and tagging it in a way Estonians will see it (by using the words "estonia" and "eesti" in tags)? Well, absolutely tasteless.

[spideysl0ve]

"why are you pushing me away?" with Sanji?🩷

 . 𔘓 ؛ chipped glass, chipped heart

⇢ masterlist

⇢ writing prompts

⇢ vinsmoke sanji x f!reader.

⇢ tw: angst, reader is insecure.

⇢ summary: “why are you pushing me away?” prompt with sanji.

you couldn't understand it, one week he had been all over you but now, now he didn't even look into your eyes, what had you done? he still was all over robin and nami, so why not you?

you were starting to think you disgusted him, but why?

it had all been so sudden, one day he kissed the ground you walked on and the next one he barely spoke to you, why?

you sat quietly in the room you shared with nami and robin, scribbling your feelings in your journal as robin entered the room, you stop writing quietly, examining her every move.

''y/n have you seen my book about secret history?'' she asked, her eyes lurking over your messy writing in tear filled sheets, you noticed and close the notebook.

''i think you left it on a chair on the deck'' you quietly spoke, your voice hoarse.

robin sighed, sitting beside you, eyes examinating the dried tears that still reset on your checks, lowering to your ink stained hands that held the notebook protectively.

''is this about sanji again?'' she asked gently, trying not to upset you.

she knew, she knew how deeply you loved the cook, you had told her one night utterly drunk when you came back for celebrating before the crew.

you recalled that moment clearly, although you hardly remembered your name that night, it had happened because you had danced with sanji under the pale moonlight, both of you drunk and clumsy, but still happy, but the morning after that, he just stopped talking to you.

''i just don't get it'' you mumbled, your voice breaking again.

''it's his loss, and you know it'' she reminded you, caressing your hair gently.

------------------------✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩--------------------------

dinner time came and with that you stayed as usual helping sanji clean the kitchen, it's something you both had got used, and it was comfortingly domestic in some way, but now it felt cold, it even hurt in some way.

the usual laughter of your voice and was replaced by the sound of the dishes being collected, while sanji's usual praise to you was replaced by the occasional puffing of his cigar.

you as usual were taking the dishes with a few glasses on top, looking at the floor trying to avoid even looking at the blonde man in front of you, the problem was that you weren't looking at the floor, which made you fall, dishes and glasses fell on top of you as a loud crash echoed through the kitchen.

''y/n!'' sanji turned around quickly, getting down to you in a few moments. “are you okay?” he asked, touching your knee and shoulder gently.

it was the first time he had touched you since that day, you started to tremble, your eyes starting to water as he rubbed your shoulders gently.

“why are you pushing me away?” you cried weakly.

sanji froze, looking at you, crying, he started to feel so guilty, so bad.

“why?” you cried sobbing, he held you as you cried, you punched his chest weakly in despair. “i don't get it…why?”

he just held you there gently, caressing your hair, taking the punishment that you were giving him without even flinching until you relaxed

“because 'i've fallen deeply in love with you, mon y/n” he spoke quietly when you finally calmed down. “and i don't want you to think that you're like any other girl for me” he admitted with guilt, his eyes turning glassy as he cupped your face gently. “i love you and i am sorry for that” he mumbled.

your lip quivered as you both hugged, feeling all the weight of the love you both had falling to on your shoulders and sinking you down to the sea.

and you wanted to sink with him, you wanted to sink with him until you choke out of love.

taglist: @remasjoestar @anamiad00msday @rotin0

be added to my taglist

[absolutepokemontrash]

Ignore how late I am but I saw the post and I feel the the need to complain about this. A squick I have when it comes to fics and headcanons is when Belphie is completely villainized while the rest of the brothers hate him with their whole being while also depicted as perfect. And while that's annoying on its own, whenever this happens everyone else in the work also gets fucked over.

I specifically mean works where Belphie gets reduced to "the cold and callous villain who killed MC" and that's it. No acknowledging any circumstance around or about why he did it and making being manipulative his entire personality trait. And the rest of the brothers hate him for killing and manipulating MC, which I would understand more if this didn't so frequently come with them acting like they've never even hurt MC before.

The brothers love and protect MC by lesson 16, yeah, but they also almost put MC six feet under on multiple occasions themselves and only just got used to seeing humans as equals. They would be upset with Belphie for killing MC, but they wouldn't hate or never forgive him because they've been brothers long before MC got there and it would be hypocritical.

And this causes the rest of the brothers to act extremely out of character as well. Especially when it comes to why the brothers can't forgive him. Sometimes the brothers will hate Belphie for "killing Lilth" or hurting her descendant which is??? Or they'll treat MC like they're a replacement for Belphie, which is also???? And in these situations, MC acts like they're the antagonist of a replacement AU.

For some reason in works where Belphie's personality or lore gets tossed out of the window, so does everyone else's and both of these are so nerve grating to me. Okay, done complaining.

I have so many thoughts and opinions on Belphie and the fandom’s treatment of him, that I could deadass write a peer reviewed thesis on him…

TLDR: The mischaracterization of Belphie in the fandom is so rampant that I’m convinced some people writing him or complaining about him haven’t played the game.

Just to get this out of the way, Belphie’s character redemption arc suffered due to the 20 lesson limit in season one. His grand evil plan got put into motion in lesson 16, and we had to spend the entirety of lesson 17 (and into lesson 18) turning him into a viable Husbando (tm), therefore, his redemption and development was incredibly rushed.

Onto the good stuff 😈

My take on Obey Me and the brothers as a whole is that while yes, the writers have been woobifying them a whole lot, a LOT of their “toned down” behaviours can literally just be explained by them not having a *reason* to be assholes anymore because MC has done so much work to help them repair their relationships with each other.

I was raised Catholic (decently progressive Catholic, still got the fun guilt though lmao) and the way I was taught to view sin, was that it was an act of violence against someone else, and/or yourself, because there is some kind of deficiency or problem in your own life. It’s that whole “hurt people hurt people” thing, and you can literally SEE it with the brothers.

Lucifer isolates himself and puts on the persona of the tough, scary, intimidating eldest brother when in reality, he’s scared, and guilty, and fucking embarrassed about what happened with Lilith. You can see this when Luke took the Grimoire, Lucifer wasn’t acting out of rage, he was acting out of fear and disguising it, and then lashed out at Luke and MC and only stopped when Diavolo told him to because Dia is literally his boss.

Now what does this have to do with Belphie? Belphie is downright homicidal when the game starts in season one (which is why Luci locked him in the attic, to protect him AND the exchange program), now the question is “why?”

To put what Belphie has been going through in perspective: this guy has been drowning in guilt, trauma, grief, and self loathing for thousands of years. He feels guilty that Beel saved him instead of Lilith, and most importantly, he feels guilty that he led Lilith to the human world to begin with. He’s lashing out because he’s been grieving for thousands of years with no one to turn to about it BECAUSE THE OTHER BROTHERS ARE ALSO STILL GRIEVING

Now of course, this doesn’t excuse what Belphie did to MC, but it does EXPLAIN it. He’s so angry at humanity and himself that he’s the emotional equivalent of a suicide bomber. He’s self destructing and trying to take the people he’s blaming with him and praying that makes the guilt go away.

Finally, when Diavolo and Barbatos reveal Lucifer’s secret about what really happened to Lilith (how she was reincarnated and got to live a happy life as a human), this is the kick that gets ALL the brothers to finally be able to move on. We spent the entirety of season one making pacts and going on silly little adventures with everyone, all the while being the support system they needed to finally move on from their grief.

So THAT is why it makes me so angry when people act like Belphie is uniquely The Worst.

This is coming from someone who doesn’t mind writing the brothers at what I believe to be “their worst” in terms of shitty behaviour (if you want an example, look at how Asmo is currently behaving in A Lovecraftian Exchange Student). But I think characterizing Belphie as some pure evil villain is a massive disservice to him as a character. (Ignoring his survivor’s guilt and grief etc etc)

Also, to act like the other six brothers would immediately hate and despise Belphie over this is so wrong, I’m sorry but it’s grossly wrong. Belphie is their sweet baby brother, yes they love MC, but guys, especially at that point in season one, yes they liked MC, but BELPHIE 👏 IS 👏 THEIR 👏 BABY 👏 BROTHER. I think they’d be disappointed and maybe angry at him, but they’re not going to just up and abandon him, no chance about it.

I’d say the brothers didn’t truly begin to love-love MC until the end of lesson 18-20 after they’ve done some growing as people, but that’s just my interpretation.

Finally.

Y’all.

Did you forget that Belphie literally offered a pact to MC, SPECIFIED THAT IT WASNT BECAUSE OF THEIR CONNECTION TO LILITH BTW, and did this entirely of his own free will because he liked them???

Guys, a pact is offering control of the demon’s entire being! Belphie had grown enough in trusting a human to the point where he was willing to put his life in their hands!

This was so ramble-y and confusing, I’m so sorry- I just have so many thoughts about the brothers and Belphie in particular 😭😭😭

[jewish-vents]

Goyim are wearing on my last nerve. I get the Mr. Rogers "look for the helpers" quote thrown at me regularly, people go "oh just don't watch/read/listen to them" when I mention someone being antisemitic, and act as if Jewish people who are upset are at fault for looking at something we knew would make us upset. And that's just not how this works.

I have never gone out of my way to look at something that makes me upset once in my entire life. I block people and stop using sites that upset me. I installed a Firefox extension to help filter content. I unsubscribed from every YouTuber that I used to watch who was antisemitic, installed an add-on to make them never come up in my feed, and installed an add-on to hide comments underneath videos from me. I've had to drop all my friends. I don't do anything to be visibly Jewish. I avoid any political content anywhere I see it. I have so, so many words filtered on multiple sites.

And the stuff that's allegedly my responsibility to just not watch/read/etc finds me anyway.

Try to watch YouTube? Antisemitism. Try to look at some fanart? Antisemitism. Watch the news? There it is. Searching for a D&D group? It pops up yet again. Look for some Animal Crossing design codes? Once more, with feeling. Walk to the dining hall from my dorm? Right there, in my face, yelling full volume. Go to class? The professors will make it a routine feature of lectures. Walk to the grocery store and back to get food so you can avoid the encampment? The cashiers are chatting about (((the Jews))). Search for something on Etsy for your mom's birthday? It's in the search results. Open up a website you go to for recipes because you want to cook until you feel less stressed? "Top 10 Recipes Stolen By Israelis". Buy a book at the used bookstore to read to take your mind off of things? An entire display is all anti-Israel books, right there to greet you when you walk in. Go to the thrift store to donate things you made or repaired? Your reward for this good deed is a sign in the window with the 'from the mountains to the sea' quote. Go home for a weekend to hang out with your family and naively think in a little town you wouldn't encounter antisemitism? Right-wing people drunk on conspiracy theories talk about their baseless beliefs right on the street where you can hear it through the windows.

There's this thing in psychology called DARVO. Deny, attack, reverse victim and offender. And it perfectly sums up the "nice" goyim's responses. The world isn't the offender, it's you. You're not being hurt, you're the one weighing everyone down with their negativity. They never address the root issue, that being that antisemitism is rampant, they just divert their attention onto something else, something pleasant to think about.

The problem with DARVO, like other abuser tactics, is that if you use it too often, it stops being effective. 11 months in, it's over the threshold. I am no longer going to feel guilty for noticing things are messed up.

If you don't want me to notice it, then change it. The easiest way to get people to stop complaining about the state of the world is to make it even marginally less bad, just enough we can convince ourselves there's hope for the future. But goyim can't do that, because that would take effort and involve admitting they have maybe done a single thing wrong in their lives. And their whole self-confidence rests upon the lie that is abdicating themselves from responsibility for their own actions.

I used to be angry at them. Now I'm annoyed at myself for ever expecting better. Genuinely, I do not know why I ever thought they were capable of being any better than they are now. There was nothing going on to prove to me that they had the capacity to be decent to other people when it wouldn't get them public praise, and most goyim are motivated entirely by extrinsic validation from their peers.

There is no anger left. There's just disappointment. And it's not even disappointment in them, because this is the best that they can do.

.

[sunflowergraves]

Unpacking Will Solace’s Character

I’ve seen a lot of Will Solace hate since TSATS and it’s really starting to bother me. As a person that relates heavily to Will’s character, it’s upsetting to see him get bashed across the internet, especially considering we’ve never actually gotten to know his character. Personally, I feel like a lot of people are basing his character around headcanons and fanfiction (which I am guilty of) and were disappointed when he wasn’t who we saw him as. 

It doesn’t help that the only time we got to see Will’s POV it was short and through the eyes of others. He’s also not this big hero like all the characters in the PJO universe. His powers aren’t that strong, he’s not a prophecy child, and his talents are mediocre. Will is the most human demigod we’ve ever been introduced to. I can understand why his character doesn’t feel multi-dimensional compared to everyone else, but in my opinion, he was fleshed out very well. 

Yes, there are a few things I was disappointed by. I wish they talked about Will’s past more and his grief over his dead siblings. I wanted him to have his own weapon, even if it was an old bow he never used or a lyre like Apollo used in TOA. But I will always love that they changed him from the calm, collected counselor healer to an anxious, depressed, self-doubting person because it fits him so well. How could he not feel these things after losing friends and family? After being abandoned by everyone around him? Or being forced to take on the caretaker role of the entire camp because he was the only one left? 

I’m going to continue this down below, so if you don’t want major spoilers for TSATS, don’t continue reading. Also this is long as hell in case you just want to skim. 

Every time Will was mentioned in the books, it was from someone else’s POV and it was a few lines at best. 

Will has always been described as the cool, relaxed, go-with-the-flow type of guy. He was the person with a level head and knew exactly what to do. But guess what? Underneath that cool exterior was an anxiety riddled people pleaser who threw himself at every problem because that’s what he was told to do. The Apollo cabin was always the head medic team. After Lee and Michael died, Will was basically thrust into that position of power. He was trusted to take care of his younger siblings, trusted to take care of the entire camp. If he let them down, it was going to cost lives. Of course he’s going to be scared and nervous, but he can’t show that. Would you want a doctor with shaky hands and sweat running down their neck? Would you want to be taken care of by a person who doubted and second guessed themselves out in the open? 

As someone who was given a lot of responsibly and forced to grow up at a young age, I completely understand this. You want to try to make everything better for others around you, you get scared when you fuck up, and you HATE when people can’t rely on you. That’s why you will never show how scared you are to fuck up. You will never let people get inside your head because if they can’t rely on you, what good are you? Breaking out of the role that everyone else gave you because they trusted you is scary and hard. 

Nico is probably the only person who knows what Will really thinks. Will trusts Nico with his anxiety and overthinking because he’s comfortable enough around him to show that side. He knows he doesn’t have to Mr. Hero in front of Nico and that’s such a precious and important bond to make with someone. 

Will was valid for being whiny and irritated for most of the book. 

First, Will has ANXIETY. If you don’t know what it’s like to live with anxiety, count yourself lucky. It feels like your thoughts are attacking you constantly. It’s like an uphill battle between rational thought and absolute chaos. I can’t get in my car without thinking of all the ways I could die before I buckle my seatbelt. Imagine going to SuperHell for the first time in your life! Not only that, but people told Will constantly that as a child of Apollo he was basically fucked. The three strongest demigods that made it back almost went insane! Of course Will is going to be upset, irrational, irritated, and uncomfortable. 

In TOA, he voiced several times how he thought it was a bad idea and that he really didn’t like it. This is not a new thing for Will’s character at all. For him to be willing to cross a line he had made concrete shows that he loves and cares for Nico. But that shouldn’t mean he isn’t allowed to be uncomfortable. 

Second, for anyone saying he could have stayed at camp instead of going has never sacrificed their comfort for someone else. There are so many instances in my life where I went way out of my comfort zone because I knew my friends/family wanted me there. Did I complain? Hell yes. Did I still do it? Hell yes! If Will had said, “Nico, I can’t do this and I refuse to at least try,” I would have lost so much respect for his character. Instead he sucked it up, even when he was already practically dying before they got there. 

Three, Will was worried about Nico. He’s never experienced Tartarus, he’s never been to the Underworld. While Will has definitely faced his share of demons, he’s never stood in Nico’s shoes. So when his boyfriend is having vivid nightmares and hearing voices, he’s going to try and rationalize it for Nico because that’s what he has done his entire life. Will is the “healer.” He is supposed to fix things, not let them traipse off to hell like it’s a vacation spot. 

Four, this is a 15 year old. Fuck, even now at the ripe ole age of 20, I’d still be shaking in my boots terrified at the thought of going somewhere that is practically a jailhouse for the worst creatures in creation. Will has little to no experience on the field (He ran from six guards without even trying to pull out a weapon. The worst thing he’s ever said to his enemies was “anemic loser” and didn’t even want to kill Octavian. Every battle before that he had an older sibling to look up to and care for him). So yeah, I’d just be a tad bit nervous and annoying.  

Will asking Persephone how to love someone from the Underworld was honest and raw. 

This scene broke me in ways I can’t even describe because of how real it felt. If you’ve ever been in a deep and caring relationship (friendship counts) you should understand. Like Persephone said, love is something you choose and it’s complicated and messy even for people who were practically made for each other. For Will to ask how to love someone from the Underworld shows that he is actively choosing to understand and love Nico. 

I get that most people interpret Will’s lines as “How do you love someone so filled with death?” but really he’s asking how do you love someone who acts like he doesn’t want to be loved? How do you love someone that pulls away from your light no matter how desperately you try to give it them? How do you love someone who hides parts of themselves from you? 

Will is a healer, he fixes things. It’s not until this scene that Will realizes the only thing Will needs to fix is his perspective on Nico. That darkness and hurt and trauma is okay. It’s also a scene where Will realizes he doesn’t have to force down his own trauma anymore. 

Will loves Nico and it’s so obvious he scared to lose him. He thinks he’s weak and broken and incapable of helping Nico escape his trauma. His insecurities shadow him and he’s confused about how to navigate this relationship because he thinks he needs to be the leader. How can he lead if Nico won’t let him? How can he help when he doesn’t know how? Persephone’s scene was Will’s chance of finding guidance from someone who could understand exactly what he’s thinking

People in their late 40′s still can’t get relationships down. Why are we pushing unrealistic relationship ideations on a 15 year old who doesn’t even know who he is yet?

Will was not useless. 

Sorry that the relationship duo isn’t Mr. Badass and Mr. Badass 2.0. Will not being a fighter is refreshing to see because honestly I’m quite tired of seeing badass couples in every book/movie. Not everyone is strong and powerful and super awesome. Will is a nerd that likes healing people. Why isn’t that enough? 

“He’s described as having muscles,” “He’s a field/combat medic,” “He fought in the wars,” “He carries people all the time,” “He trains with the Apollo cabin.” Okay and? I was raised to work hard and protect myself. I work out and I know how to use a bow and knife. Does that mean I want to? No. 

I’d also like to point out that almost everyone in camp is described as having muscles. You kind of have to when your life motto is Try not to die or get eaten. Also they train on lava walls, jump eight foot pits, and weapons. I get a little bit of muscle going on my silly little walks, I’d be fucking jacked if I was actively training. 

Second, Will has never once been described fighting monsters/demigods. I don’t doubt that he’s had a few encounters, but the boy practically specializes in RUNNING AWAY. He’s a feral little animal that finds injured demigods and sprints them away to the medic center while occasionally bashing monster heads in. He’s strong because he needs to be, not because he wants to be. Strength also doesn’t equal battle prowess. 

Not to mention, he hates killing! He didn’t want to kill Octavian despite Octavian being the actual worst. He runs away as a distraction even though he had weapons on him. He got upset when Nico threw Sherman Yang out of the chariot in TOA. Monsters are different, but monsters are also scary. Will is terrified of demon pigeons, you really think he’s willingly gonna go one-on-one with anything bigger than his pinky? 

I’ll admit, I hated that he didn’t have a weapon in Tartarus. I thought it was really stupid and out-of-character because my anxious ass would have loaded up. Still, it was kind of funny when they described Will bashing rocks over monster’s heads during their fight with Nyx. 

My final point for this: Will was Nico’s support system and that was the point. Will knew he wasn’t going to throw hands with anyone. He went because he knew Nico needed him even when Nico told him to stay. Will was going to trek through SuperHell with the love of his life and hold his hand to remind him that he was loved. Will wanted Nico to know that he’d literally go to Hell and back for him and that’s what mattered. 

Nico didn’t ask Will to be the Hero. Nico states several times that the reason he loves Will is because he wants to heal and he’s so stubborn to find the good in everything. And that’s exactly what Will did. He offered support, care, and reminders. He was going to understand and love Nico, even through the darkest parts of his life. 

Will is one of the best support systems in a PJO couple duo. 

It makes me incredibly sad to see people call Will toxic when he gave his entire life to support Nico. I won’t deny that he complained a lot and said hurtful things and that he occasionally belittles Nico’s feelings. But Will didn’t know he was doing those things. He thought he was helping Nico navigate his PTSD. How is someone who is still emotionally developing his own character supposed to know how to take care of someone else’s? 

Will also clearly showed love and affection towards Nico. He met all his friends and was polite to them even when they looked scary. Will risked his life several times before they got to Tartarus and still insisted on continuing. Built a Minecraft house for his boyfriend and left him a KitKat bar because he knew he would feel fatigued (also Will brought KitKat bars, meaning he was already thinking of Nico’s health beforehand). He tried to be useful by scouting ahead because he felt like he was being a burden on Nico. He kissed him, called him silly nicknames, hugged him, respected his boundaries (asking to hold him instead of trying to comfort him immediately), and oh yeah, went to Tartarus when he was obviously quaking in his flipflops. 

He also helped Bob when he had no idea who/what he was, comforted Nico when he was beginning to lose hope, acknowledged his mistakes and admitted he needed to try harder, realized he didn’t need to fix Nico and that his boyfriend was perfect the way he was, and learned that Nico wasn’t going to leave him. 

Love is complicated. Love is something you choose. And Will chooses to love Nico. Also for everyone saying a year is long enough to learn/realize these problems already and have them solved, you need to take the rose tinted glasses off. I’ve been with my partner for almost four years, and I’m still learning things about our relationship. We argue, we don’t always meet eye-to-eye. Our own trauma and experiences surface and it gets difficult. But do we just call it quits and throw everything into the trash? No. We talk, we problem-solve, we come back and try to understand each other even if we don’t know how to do that. A year is nothing. A year is puppy love and excitement. It’s like your favorite movie on repeat. All the problems are ignored because you don’t want to see them yet. 

So for a pair of 15 year old's who just came to terms with their sexuality, I think that they are doing pretty damn good at this love thing. 

Anyway, that’s all I really wanted to say. Even though we’ve had Will for years, we’ve never gotten to know his true character until now. It’s raw and weird and doesn’t fit the mold of Will Solace, son of Apollo we all created him to be. You can still hate his character or whatever, I’m not going to try to change your mind. But don’t hate on everyone else who loves him and loves this book. 

[f4irys4n]

brothers best friend

jeong yunho x afab! reader

your brother wasn't too much older than you, probably around a yea

so that meant you closely grew up with him and his friendship group

and over the years.. you slowly developed a crush on yunho

honestly, you just thought it was due to the proximity: he was an attractive guy and he was nice to you, you're bound at least get a little crush on him

but over time you began to realise that it was so much more than that

you tried your best to try and hide it, to not make things awkward but as you both got older, this progressively got harder

he'd watched you grow up, there was no way he could ever like you. you were convinced he only saw you as a sister

there was one defining time where he was staying over at your house and he'd had a shower, and of course you stepped out of your room the very same moment he stepped out of the bathroom

to add to this situation.. he was shirtless, hair and chest still wet..

you swear you audibly gasped at the sight before turning back around and locking yourself into your room once again

since that day, you felt stupidly awkward around him

and of course, he noticed, and it confused him beyond belief

you'd been close since you were young, doing stupid things together and laughing around, why had you suddenly gone into hermit mode around him?

and the only thing he could think to do was to confront you about it?

you were in the kitchen one day making coffee when he came downstairs, telling your brother he was going to get a glass of water

but in reality, he just needed a moment alone with you

the second you saw him coming down the stairs, you tried to quickly rush what you were doing so you could slip away

'lets not be doing this again,' he speaks bluntly, blocking the way and stopping you from getting past him

'do what?' you fake confusion, trying to scooch past his big frame

'ignore me.. act like i'm not there,' he hums, a small pout forming on his lips 'every time i enter a room, you automatically leave.'

you didn't know how to respond to his sudden comments

you felt guilty, of course you did, but you seriously didn't know what else to do

'what have i done? have i upset you?'

'no.. of course you haven't, yunho,'

'so what's going on? we've known each other since you were 8, you've always wanted to be around me, what's changed?' he asks firmly

'it's nothing,' you mumble 'you've done nothing,' you continue, emphasising the last part of your sentence because that was the problem.. he's done nothing

yunho would sigh, slowly stepping aside to let you past, giving up trying to talk to you because it was apparent you weren't giving up

you take your chance and try to shoot off but he suddenly grabs your wrist softly

"y/n.." he whispers softly, you could hear the desperation in his voice "look at me."

you'd comply, feeling uneasy about what he was gonna say

and here comes an obvious looking romance cliché

he cups your face and kisses you

his lips were softer than clouds, and his finger tips caressed your cheek like you could break at any second

the grin on his face as he pulls away would be unforgettable

just a cheesy little grin, his cheeks red and round

"that was nice," he giggles softly

you'd actually be speechless because where did that come from ??

"that's what i hadn't done," yunho hums, pleased with himself "will you now please stop ignoring me? i've missed you,"

you'd actually be beyond baffled..

"i like you.. y/n.." he confess

instant wave of relief, am i right?

"and i hated not speaking to you, it's been the first few weeks of my life seeing you ignore me like you don't even know me when you've known me your entire life,"

you wouldn't even know what to say but sorry

what else are you supposed to say?

"don't apologise.. just admit you like me back," he chuckles

like the cheeky little fuck that he is

because unbeknown to you, yunho knew you fancied him the entire time and was just waiting for the day you finally admitted it to him

"i've waited so long for you to confess to me, but you never did, so now i've had to do it myself you little shit,"

cut to you confessing and having another cheeky little kiss

and your brother extra points if you're imagining it's another ateez boy catches you in the act and threatens to beat yunho up

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting upset about my mom's food waste?

so food waste is an ongoing problem we've been having for probably our whole lives. recently, i've started to realize the extent to it (i wouldn't say it's absolutely horrendous, it just feel guilty about how much we trash) and try to minimize how much we throw out.

for context, i (16m) have my chores constrained to the kitchen. i am fine with this and have volunteered for it since i have a love for cooking and own it as my responsibility. i meal plan, cook dinner, breakfast, desserts, etc., keep the fridge clean, do the dishes, and clean the counters. again, this is all to my own volition.

i have set up a system that i've discussed with my whole family (mom and two sisters) that every week my mom and i will do a shopping trip to get ingredients for the meals for that week and only that. they have all agreed and the plan works pretty well from there.

this is where i'm wondering if i'm the asshole.

my mom has this weird habit of not being able to say no to herself. i've repeatedly told her she's not allowed to buy things not on my list since it usually doesn't get used. every time i've brought it up, she agrees. and the she'll do it again.

i've gotten really frustrated with her behavior and have started to get snappy about it. the sister i am very close to has said she understands my frustrations but ultimately i cannot control my mom and she can get things she wants.

the other night my mom and i had an argument over this. i had gone through the freezer and pulled out a few things that had their expiration date either 1 or 2 years back, so i threw them out. i think it's gross to eat them since they've most likely been in there for 4-5 years (freezer items usually last 2-3 years right at purchase). my mom saw them in the trash and asked why i threw them out. i told her they were expired and she got annoyed, saying that even if they were a bit past the expiration date, they were still good. i do understand that that's sometimes the case, but this was mostly meat. i have a weird relationship with meat where if it is even slightly off (being in the freezer too long, looking weird even if it's good, having any cartilage, etc), i won't it eat because it makes me want to throw up.

i took it to my own judgement to throw it out since it hadn't been touched since we bought it anyway. she got mad and said it cost her money so we should use it anyway. i retorted that if it was so expensive, why had she forgotten about it for so long? i also thought about bringing up all the stuff she buys and throws out later, but decided to keep it to myself.

the argument ended with her washing the items off and putting them back in the freezer. i'm still mad about all the food she buys that hasn't been asked for. i do feel weird about it since she can eat whatever she wants, i'm not controlling her on that, i'm just trying to reduce food waste. so, aita?

What are these acronyms?

[cowboycherry]

🍒 :; pain in my teeth!

summary!

tasm! peter parker x autistic! reader who has some very prominent and unfortunate sensory issues regarding a certain super suit.

inclusions/warnings!

gender of reader is not specified. reader’s sensory issues make their teeth hurt to a point where they have to use a stimulation (in the form of a rubber straw) to make it better, peter feels guilty about it which then causes reader’s empathy sensitivity to spike, reader says i love you and peter says it back, i don’t know how to end a fluffy blurb!! <3

no use of ‘y/n’ but uses of baby, sweetheart (for reader) and pete, petey (for peter) i wrote this based on my personal experiences with autism, so it may not be something that every person experiences!

word count!

700+

ˏ`୭̥*ೃ author’s note! :; please let me know if there are any mistakes/things that i should work on! and my inbox is open for any requests, or just a chat!

peter honestly wasn’t sure what had happened to get to this point.

about 3 seconds ago you were fine, basking in his spider-man awesomeness and doting on him being the “coolest and best boyfriend ever!” and now you’re making a scrunchy face and uncomfortable noises.

because of his spider senses (but actually because he is the best boyfriend ever and knows what you’re feeling before you can even comprehend it), he jumps into action. as he moves closer to hold you and ask what’s wrong, what had suddenly changed to make you upset, you hold a hand up to stop him.

he frowns slightly, “are you okay? what happened, baby?” you shake your head in response.

“i’ve never felt your suit before.”

he completely stops, confused for a moment as to why that has anything to do with this and then it clicks. the texture.

you’ve always been super irritated by textures: velvet, corduroy, silks, and many many others. while you aren’t quite sure what horrendous type of spandex fabric peter’s blue and red superhero costume was made out of, you know that it hurts. badly.

“just made my teeth hurt really bad, ‘s okay, though. ‘m okay now, pete.” you try to smile widely at him to let him know that it’s fine but you cringe and purse your lips again as you watch him as he removes the suit hurriedly, ridding the thing causing you to not touch him.

“no! i, ugh! i should’ve thought about it and let you feel the suit a little bit first before i hugged you like that, sweetheart, i’m sorry.”

you shake your head fervently, mumbling assurances that it’s fine as you begin to bite onto the silicone straw in your cup to reduce the aching of your teeth. “really it’s fine! it just… threw me off. y’know how i am, pete. but it’s better now! my teeth aren’t even hurting anymore!” they definitely were, but you can’t stand to see him feel so guilty about something that isn’t his fault.

he throws a t-shirt over his head (one that he knows you never have a problem with) and he strides towards the bed. “i still feel bad, though. ‘specially ‘cause i know you well enough to know that they’re still hurting.” he grumbles as he lays next to you, covering his face with a pillow.

you reach behind you, still chewing on your straw, to rub a hand across his stomach. “really ‘s okay, peter! i’ll be fine in a minute. just please don’t feel bad.” your voice sounds a little strained with worry and that makes him feel even worse knowing that he’s affecting your empathy sensitivity as well.

“okay. okay, it’s fine. you’re okay. can i touch you, please?” his voice is dulcet as he whispers to you. you nod, humming in relief when you feel his hands settle on your hips.

your teeth finally rid of their ache after a few more minutes, and you turn to peter with a frown on your face. “no, no baby, why that face?” he pouts, rushing his hands to cover your cheeks and try to rub the frown away.

you mimic his pout, mumbling through his palms, “oou wor ‘sposed to tae me to swang frew da cidy!”

he giggles and removes his hands, “one more time?”

you crack a little smile, still frowning slightly.

“you were supposed to take me to swing through the city, petey! and now you can’t because ‘m sensitive!” you throw yourself dramatically onto the bed with a wail.

“oh.” he pauses for a minute as he turns to face you. “well, we could… go without my suit? like to somewhere where there aren’t many people or we could go at night! or! i could just wear the mask, then you don’t have to touch the whole suit!”

your heart swells at the boy in front of you. he’s so so sweet and you know that he’d do anything for you, and you would do the same for him.

“i think that sounds really nice, peter. i love you, by the way. thanks for always putting up with me.” you snuggle into his warmth, wrapping you fingers into his hair as you kiss little pecks onto his skin.

“yeah, ‘f course, baby.” you can hear his grin through your kisses. “i love you too.”

© cowboycherry 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my content. all work is my own, and until further notice, will be proofread by only myself.

[mulderscully]

lately i've been doing bad and i hate that. i feel like i should be happy. i have what i wanted. my own space, a full time adult job, freedom to come and go as i please. and i'm like at work trying not to cry in the bathroom, and all the disipline i taught myself last year feels like it's gone. i am so aware of how i don't have family and how little friends i have. and i'm grateful for the friends i have but i also understand why i don't have many and i wish i could be a more outgoing person. i feel like i've become mean and guarded and i hate that too. i want to be kinder. my ocd makes me do weird rituals that i hate explaining. i have pains in my stomach and chest that i can't tell are mental or physical. my eye keeps twitching. i have brain fog and keep forgetting things. i feel guilty about my problems when the world is so shitty. i barely talk to anyone irl outside of work so i'm terminally online, and feel stupidly rejected when others aren't, panic when i think i upset someone because my main social interactions happen here and i care abt it more than i should at 30. i pace the room back and forth just wishing i could call my mom in a way i haven't in all these years. i feel like i need a 3 month vacation from doing nothing. i never want to die but i can't find the point of life rn bc i've reached a goal i had for so long. idk i feel so weird everyday and i'm tired of it. i want people to comfort me but i don't want them to be aware i'm struggling. hmmm

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

real downer mental health stuff below cut. sorry. it's been a real hard couple weeks and i need to get things out somewhere or i'll go crazy.

i just need to get my feelings written out because right now i feel like im going to explode and i can't afford therapy right now and i can't talk to any friends because i cant live with the guilt of burdening them with my problems. so this is the only way i can think of getting it out of me. but i still feel guilty even doing this so im turning reblogs off because i don't want anyone to feel like they need to provide words of comfort or anything like that. would turn off replies to this post too if i knew how to do it. i just need to get it Out.

a few weeks ago, my family had a discussion about putting our old dog down. he's deaf and blind and has dementia that's gotten much worse this year. and he isn't really "living" anymore. i'm not sure he even knows who i am anymore. and it hurts so so bad. i know it's time. but it hurts so fucking bad. i don't want to be the one to make the phone call and make the appointment and solidify the date i lose him forever, so i asked my dad if he could do it. my mom wanted to do it immediately but my dad said he would make the call after my mom's surgeries for her parkinsons that was happening this month. i know my dad doesn't want to put our dog down. the whole thing was brought up in the first place because my mom keeps bringing it up. and it makes her and my dad argue which is not what i fucking want right now. she tends to bring up the subject with my dad and i at the worst times, when im feeling especially terrible. she just had her last surgery yesterday so she brought it up again tonight. the way she brings it up has kind of really sucked for me. i was already feeling especially depressed because everything was just feeling so overwhelming today (stress from thinking about my dog and also hearing that my mom fell on her face and got hurt while i was at work). the past couple times my mom has brought up my dog with me, she's started it off by asking if i had been crying and then when i say that i was, she asks when we're putting our dog down. i don't know why she's doing it like this. i feel upset at her for doing it this way, but at the same time i feel bad for being upset at her because she has parkinson's and just had surgery. even though the surgery went well, i still feel guilty that i'm upset with her.

i couldn't give my mom a straight answer because again, i don't want to be the one to solidify the date, so i told her i'm waiting for dad to make the phone call. she said, "ok i'm going to tell dad." then i went downstairs and cried while she immediately went to tell my dad. i could hear my parents argue about it. it's not a subject my dad likes to acknowledge and my mom has been really pushy about it with him and me. i regret and feel guilty about asking my dad to make the call. i should have just sucked it up and said i would do it. i think i might have to be the one to do it. but it hurts so fucking bad.

whenever my mom talks about it with my dad, she always tries to pressure him by bringing up how sad it's making me. when she does that it feels like im being made into the main "reason" to put our dog down. that if we don't put him down as soon as possible, my mental health will keep spiraling. and yeah, im not doing great right now, but i don't want to keep hearing it brought up over and over like that. i don't want to feel like it's my fault. i know my dog needs to be put down. but i don't want to feel like it's because of me. does that make sense? is that selfish? is the amount of crying i've been doing not "normal" in this situation? it's not like i cry all day. i only do it at night and i try to hide it as best i can. i don't want my mom to see and tell me "this is why we need to put him down now." which she has done before. i don't know. it just hurts so bad.

i haven't been able to tell my mom about how she's been upsetting me. because she'll get upset about it if i do. and i feel bad for being upset in the first place. because i know in the end, these actions she's taking is because she's worried for me. she just. doesn't think things through all the time. she's always spoken before thinking. although im not sure if her parkinson's has made this habit worse. i can't remember if she's always been at this level or if this is something exacerbated by parkinson's. which makes me feel even more guilty about being upset at her. god. everything just feels fucked right now. so overwhelming. i wish i could see my therapist again, but i just can't afford that expense right now.

i've been having more nightmares. been having the stupid sleep paralysis shit. been having more frequent intrusive thoughts of driving off the bridge i go over on my commute or looking at my pills and wondering what would happen if i took everything in the bottle at once. i don't think i would ever actually act on these things, because i love my family too much to have them deal with that kind of hardship. it's just been exhausting for my brain. and some days the thoughts feel closer than others. but that's depression for you. been dealing with it for many years. this has just been one of those real bad times for it. if anyone is actually reading this, please dont worry. i know that's kind of dumb of me to say considering everything i wrote here. but really please don't worry. i just needed a place to put my thoughts and feel like i'm releasing them somehow. im still here. i've had these bad thoughts before and i'm still here. i will still be here. it'll get better. i just need to hold on again.

i just wish dogs lived longer.

[fxchild]

The Switch

Miles Fairchild x fem!reader

Chapter seven: So now you're back?

A note from Fxchild ! Hi hi so ya I am not dead ! My phone lit broke and I totes forgot my email for this acc but now I'm back and my writers block has never gone away so quickly ! I'm so excited for new chapters to b out soon ! In the meantime while you r waiting for chapters, if you have one shot ideas for characters Finn Wolfhard plays I would b more than happy to write those so you guys aren't waiting forever for a new chapter ! So...finally heres the well awaited chapter seven ! I hope you enjoy this <3

It's the first day of May. It's also been three months since Miles left again. I keep telling Flora that he'll be back soon but I feel my heart break every time I lie to her. I don't think he will be back until I leave for the summer and then he'll leave again when I come back. I feel so guilty..Flora doesn't have a brother that lives with her because of me. But was it all really my fault? He treats me like shit and expects me to tolerate it. Never mind. I don't give a flying fuck about him anymore. He can do whatever he wants, if something happens to him, oh boo hoo not my problem.

It was finally Friday which means I have tomorrow off and I only have to teach Flora a little today because the weather was perfect for horseback riding and I'd promise to let her out today. Today I wore a dark red top with dark grey jeans with black high top shoes. I put my hair in a half up half down clip and did minimal makeup because I was planning on recording myself for an upcoming interview I have for a summer job.

Today I planned out a written test to see Flora's knowledge on geography. I would give her a half an hour to finish up on review and two hours for the test. The test was fairly easy so it shouldn't take her more than an hour or so.

"And begin." I smiled at Flora, setting my timer on my desk which is right across from hers. She immediately begins to read and write down answers while I look over her past work to grade.

Around 45 minutes into the session we hear the front door open. Flora pays no attention to it, I assume it's Ms. Grose coming in from cutting grass or buying groceries so I ignore it and go back to reading old assignments. Around a few minutes went by when I heard footsteps coming to the room. Expecting Ms. Grose I take my feet off the desk and fix my posture without looking at the door. I pretend to be in deep thought with grading when I hear someone clear their throat and hear Flora shout,

"Miles!" She screeches and jumps from her seat running over to hug him. I immediately turn my whole body in my chair with wide eyes. His hair slightly longer and he looks a little taller. He still has the same smirk and dead eyes I saw the night he left. He had on a black coat that ran down to his knees and two bags in his hands that he must have taken when he left. He engulfs Flora into a hug and smiles down at her. I've never seen that smile before. Unlike the ones he had given me this one was warm and loving. I think I had given him that smile before but I wasn't sure. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, he looked up at me and smiled. It was genuine, his eyes brightened. I knew it was real because it wasn't that same old smirk he put on with confidence, he looked painfully awkward and his eyes kept darting between me and the wooden floor. I didn't smile back. I rose up from my seat and walked over to him.

"Flora, why don't you take Miles bags and put them in his room for him sweetheart?" I smiled down at her while patting her hair. She gladly accepts and runs off with his bags. Miles smiles at me again nodding opening his mouth to speak but I cut him off.

"How you been Miles? Where'd you go this time huh? Was it fun?" I say with a sarcastic fake smile, he could tell I was mad.

"Well I-" He begins as I slap his face.

"You scared the shit out of me! Do you know how upset Flora was? She cried for almost a week, blaming herself, poor girl!" I say gritting my teeth with my eyes starting to tear up slightly.

He stared at me with pursed lips before sighing and answering. "He told me to."

I scoff and look at him dumbfounded. "He? Wh-who the hell is 'he' Miles huh? What are you schizo?" I roll my eyes annoyed

"Nobody-nothing. I just..had a dream that's all." He shakes his head staring down at the floor with shame.

"Whatever Miles." I roll my eyes and walk over to Flora's desk to pick up her finished test. "Better go find Flora. Told her she could get out of class early to go ride the horses." I say looking through her test without looking up at Miles.

"You're not gonna come?" He asks quietly, nodding his head to the side, scratching the back of his neck.

I chuckle quietly before placing the test back on the desk. "After the last time?" I walk over to him, picking a pine needle off his jacket. "No thanks." I fake smile before walking out of the room to my own. When I reach my room I fall flat onto my bed before letting out a loud sigh into my pillow. A few minutes later I look out the window. I see Flora and Miles running to the stables and shouting happily. I turn to look at my Calendar, 30 days until I leave. I got sick of sitting in my room bored and decided to go do something, anything in his boring place.

I walk into the kitchen hoping there's an apple or some food sitting out but instead of being greeted with food, it's an unbearable Ms. Grose. I smile at her but she crosses her arms and frowns at me.

"Why are you being so unpleasant towards Miles?" She grits her teeth. "What are you talking about?" I ask trying to pretend I have no clue what's going on. "Talking to him in such an arrogant tone, not accepting his offer and you still wonder why he left? You should be shamed." She spits at me coldly. My face dropped as I start to feel tears in the corners of my eyes.

I quickly ran back up to my room and slam the door. Tears start to stream down my face as I grab my backpack and start shoving stuff into my bag. By the time I zipped it up I hear the front door open again. I quickly put my shoes back on and started heading down the stairs. Walking towards the door I'm wiping my tears, Miles blocks my path.

"Woah woah! Where are you going?" He asks with a concerned look on his face, his hands falling to my shoulders. "Out." I reply while sniffling trying to push past him.

"Um okay, when are you coming back?" He lets go of me, now following me out the door. "I don't know..like..tomorrow? Sunday maybe?" I continue to walk away from him to my car. "Tell me where in case you get black out drunk again and need me to pick you up." He scoffs grabbing onto my wrist.

"You know what Miles? You won't have to worry about me anymore! I won't bother you. It's clear I make you want to leave and you hate me so I'll just leave you alone okay?! Is that what you wa-"

He cuts me off by pressing his lips against mine. It was soft and quick, like he was trying to shut me up and this was the first thing he thought of. He lets go of my wrist and stands up straight looking at me sternly. My cheeks are burning red as I attempt to say something but I can't seem to speak, like there's no air in my lungs.

I lean up against my car door for a moment staring at my feet trying to decide whether to leave or not. I finally look up at him, his head in staring at my feet too. His hands are in his pockets and he's biting his bottom lip nervously. I smile up at him.

"Hey..I'll be back in a little while. I promise I won't make you pick me up this time. Want me to grab you something?" I softly smile, hoping he won't hate me. He shakes his head no with a small smile on his face before letting me get into his car. He watches me drive off before heading back inside.

'29 days..' I whisper to myself as I head into the nearest town, smiling to myself.

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This was extremely rushed so my apologies if it wasn't as great as one of my last chapters ! I promise the next chapter will b better and have more of a plot than this one. Hope you guys liked this and r excited for the next chapter!